This is a song about "Wong chuk hang"

And this world's mine, but the womb is hers

The type i hang around are like straight end dancers.

I'll hang you like a plaque i'll fang you as an attack

Shorty throw it back and a nigga might love that

Ha my mojo back

Hang em' up, the dish rack/

The numbers unknown, hang up the phone

Jt: my mom’s been so alone

I'm dreaming to be great

Cuz i hang with people that skate

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

Fall, bitch, give me everything, i'm taking all this