This is a song about "Fruit sticck"

Are growing wild weeds and vines, strange fruit abundantly,

I wear green hats because i'm fortunately lucky

Wear my hat to the back, i'm in a different kind of mood

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

Low hanging fruit that was me

I delete they history

Streets is calling square niggas leave a message

Ive always had a taste for the fruit of knowledge,

They wanna see a nigga lose but i’m destined to win

Wicked roots, the infant tree, strange fruit, the tension,

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

Cause i’ve been counting all this dirty paper for a minute

The segregated south, with the strange fruit growin',

Got a sweet sixteen and they deadlier than sin

Strange fruit grew from wicked roots, you'd fiend for money trees

But now i'm pointin the finger at police