Tekster: Buddha Monk. Zu-Chronicles Vol. 1: Throwbacks. Hang 'em High.

[Chorus: Babyface Fensta]
Hang 'em high, hit 'em low
The rifle men, Crying Freeman
Imbecile, incarceration only made me a better criminal
Hang 'em high, hit 'em low
Hang 'em high, hit 'em low
Hang 'em high, hit 'em low, low, low

[Babyface Fensta:]
Your dialogue, don't paint a real vivid picture
Just oodles and noodles, ain't it sad?
Like living, with rats, roaches, and having an abusive dad
Some niggas is mad, I did the knowledge to a jewel & ran with it
Now I spit it, like it ain't no shitted
Stripe for mastery, culprits jealousy
Seatings clearly, like how sheisty and greedy niggas could be
Suppose to be family, must be, a bad connection
Reflection, resembles, Deacon Frost
Blood suckers, the price of fame it cost
Stakes is high, sky's the limit
I'm in it to win it, a forerunner like Toyota
Buy a bulk, or stack a chunk of my cheddar
Fuck a trendsetter, another sound bwoy dying
Compliments chain letter, Shanghai killing
Chico sticks and gangster flicks
Boston baked beans and other white meat
Taste defeat, cause you ain't sweating it
I'm letting it be known, only condone, real works of art
Assalent left no evidence, assassins don't leave fingerprints
It's a given, those that trespass, are still living
Praise dart...

[Chorus]

[Babyface Fensta:]
Heil Hitler, fuck Schindler, Fensta claps all critics
Blasphemer, your shoes are mathematics
Like them niggas avicating violence
Remember? Bad boys move in silence
Call me alias, information scarce
A Manchu subdue your crew like the flu
You spic nigga cracker jew
Slanted eye gook, hypocrite, you talk that shit
But don't walk it, 'member me from "Who's the Killer? "
Mr. Sinister, verbally sharp like a dagger
Stagger opponents who swagger like thugs
Braggadocious, you love money, teach the truth
Don't preach to the youth about the wrong jewels
Keep your fantasy, give me reality any day
In all actuality, music's a forum, use it wisely
It's ok to entertain, but material gain only poisons the brain
Of those influences, true riches is knowledge of self
A healthy servant of self worth, you're God by nature
That's why they hate cha, let's take back our turf
Get up, stand up, fight for you birth right, fuck a platinum chain
Them hoochies with coffin coochies, refrain from mind games
And scheeming things, devils, using tricknology
To get ahead in 'monopoly', I topple the economy
Crash, your 'wheels of fortune', cause you sell out if the 'price is right'
'Jeopardy', ya life, cause a nigga'll smoke that ice
Now you a 'hollywood square', running scared
Like Gregory Hines, prepare, for land mines
The redrum revisited...

[Chorus]

[Outro: Babyface Fensta]
Hang 'em high... hang 'em high...
I want a fist full of fucking dollars
Yo, dump nigga... burglar, burglar...