This is a song about "Post malone and the banging nun"

See me in the streets, i be banging with my beats

Your bitch is a hood bitch you can find up in these streets

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

And run with motherfuckin' crews banging, controllin' blocks,

Im the lyrical hangman this post the rope

Instead they lock me in the cell just for sellin dope

Girl your body lookin’ like a fuckin’ pot of gold

And try to find solutions while i'm higher than a light post

So quit banging ya head 'gainst the wall,

I wish you luck and if you need me, call

And i still banging in that ghetto zone

And firm his beliefs... his heart made of stone

The gang-banging and violence, is the sweetest song

I know the world gets cold and the days get long

And be the last nigga left, then i'll be ghost

Duct tape and tied to the motherfucking bed post