[Calez]
Yeah, yeah yeah

[Alex Wiley]
Good, good, good, good, and all my homies doing good, good, good, good, good

[Chorus: Calez]
And all my homies doing good, good... good, good, good x2

[Verse 1: Calez]
It's like Michelangelo, hisself came down to protect us
Most infectious, we speak that confidence here on these records
If God is for us who should be against us?
Don't tense up, when you see these holy credentials, make mental notes
I write so hard, my pen gon' soak you tweet my bars you gon' pen you post
I came to give these black kids hope
I'm in the hood winking but you know I ain't no joke, no Rakim
I used to sing the morning hymn
Then my nigga Willie passed now I'm mourning him
But it's okay, and it's alright
I'd probably take a flight to heaven if I could tonight
In spite of, all of the bullshit, man, we in the hood still
My homie grabbed his brews, you know I got the grill
These people got to chill when they mention my name, they don't know where I'm from or where I've came
And I'm from the Southside

[Chorus] x 2

[Verse 2: Alex Wiley]
And all my homies doing good, good... good, good, good, x2
I know everyone talk like everybody's up
Im finna smoke a one lemme know you're doing good
Everybody trying to grow, who really got the seeds though?
Everybody acting, acting like they got the lead role
Everybody playing, playing like they got the lead though
Everybody focused on the ones who got the needs though
Missed me with the fussin I don't give a fuck I'm smoking dope in public and it never just need for no discussion
These niggas put me to sleep they got just like robitussin
I am from the city where the niggas get the busting
If you ain't got a ride just take the train or take the bus then
The cops is crooked ain't got no warrant they just bust in
Then they got the nerve to wonder why we never trust them
We just take the woods and then we stuffed them like fuck them

[Chorus] x 2

[Verse 3: Mick Jenkins]
I mean what we really talking
Police killing kids outside they buildings Chalking hopscotch crosses we take the losses
I'm still talking water
Pray to Charlie's Angels
We just want some Farrah Fawcetts in Detroit
Sinked it from half court, still can't get three points
How hard is it to recognize that as a key point
I drop key points no CP3, and pass piss like I see PO
Every three weeks I check in on my nigga cuz she EMT
Seen niggas unravel with they guts empty
Like back woods, we act good, we still got shit though
We still in grind mode, we still gon' pop though like we all got crisco
Then put it over instrumental
I get reflective when I hit the Citgo
Take a second just to kick it with my kinfolk
You can feel the good all in my pen stroke

[Chorus]

Yeah, my man Rollie Piroli
I see you

They gon' have to give us all the money this year, changing the world

Good, good

I'm Good