[Verse – “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.