Clint Eastwood

Ride solo like Clint, cold stare, no blink,

Six shots in my lines, make a coward rethink.

Boots on the gravel, I walk with the storm,

Got dust in my lungs but my spirit’s reborn.

I don’t need a posse, just rhythm and truth,

My words hit like duels in a ghost town booth.

No script, no stunt, this is real-life grit,

One mic, one chance – I don't ever miss.