This is a song about "Hang it up"

I wish i could reach up and touch the clouds, they hang above me,

Now hire about street schemes, and getting blood money

I ain't a drinker, i'm a thinker, call it what you want

And hang himself from it until his eyes have popped

Our everything, you devoured it up.

Fun, sucks that i'm too tall for the tub

The numbers unknown, hang up the phone

I'll whip a 750 if it's black on chrome

But the flow hang it lower than 4 feet high

How high? nigga, higher than the kites they fly

So go ahead, hang it up in a gallery

Cause now it's on for you and me, all i can see

My homie always down to hang,

It's the wolf gang, golf wang