This is a song about "Hang"

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

Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith

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

If i could do it all again, have just one more chance

She acting all extra

I like to hang out with laura,

This nigga jasper trying to get grown

The numbers unknown, hang up the phone

My weed and my broad exotic with no seeds

Bloody hair tangles as i hang out with these priests

That you dismember a nonmember of your gang you need to hang

Now you gotta understand i was a family man

Parking lot of the blue flame

Now i hang my head in shame