This is a song about "The homie ryan can t hang"

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

Hate me if you want to but always remember this

There's crack, there's crack

Hang em' up, the dish rack/

I jive like bone

Hang up the telephone

Raising bars, till i don't think you can hang with it

So i threw it in a rap so i'd remember that

It sorta becomes a cycle like hoes bleeding

Master big t with the fire it's astounding,

What up girl, tell me how you been

Down the ryan, in a scion

Just like the homie biggie said

Tired of hearin' these voices in my head