This is a song about "Hang"

Peabody street venturing off georgia

I like to hang out with laura,

And when you know you a catch it’s hard to pass up these bitches

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

That moschino shit is so back

Hang em' up, the dish rack/

I live my life in tha fast lane

Now i hang my head in shame

Hang your problems on a hanger

I think it excited her

Crazed raised off hennesey, tell me will my enemies

Bloody hair tangles as i hang out with these priests

I'd rather hang out with conservative cynical bigots,

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits