This is a song about "Hang"

The type i hang around are like straight end dancers.

Has-beens and never-will-be, ringtone rappers

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

They at the same spot they making no progress

His balls hang awkwardly isosceles

Ain't tryin to be your god, just want to live my dreams

Now i hang my head in shame

See dog? rap is my aim

I’m a king to these niggas, love a queen, fuck the bitches

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

We just want you back at home

Hang up the telephone

Ya hang out with the boy then it's money you get

Your heart was false just like the words you said

But i do quite well with all the bait

Cuz i hang with people that skate