This is a song about "Hang"

My homie always down to hang,

Pushing in my mama van

Two bitches named tiffany i left them with a pair of kids

I'd rather hang out with conservative cynical bigots,

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

And spit the truth in the booth that'll hang 'em on crucifixes,

I'll hang you on a hook near the brink of death

My bitches ballin' to the maya moore's, yes

Tryin' to make iti only got one chance

I'm a gang man let's play hang man cos your raps

Come hang with the greatness.

On the slow jam of love

I'll hang you like a plaque i'll fang you as an attack

But the fifteen credits had a nigga off track