This is a song about "Fighting and hanging out with courtney"

Hanging, on a thread with a rope around my neck

By anotha lil' boy and this is what he said

Out of lyrics and nitpicks with silly gimmicks.

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see

You better throw it back cause hanging with a real one aint never free

And i hope you stand beside me when,down and out but still fighting in,

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

Fighting off syncope with a life's regrets under the microscope

Every morning calls his comrade to come and get him to smoke

Tongues hanging out like dogs in the middle of august

Take a look, to this bullet, now my finger slipped

But there's a devil in the ghetto tryin to tear it apart

Creeping, with gut hanging out in park, you eat alone there when it's dark

When you rapping how you rapping, bitches pack up and leave

The life around it, hanging out like autumn fields