Hang 'em High lyrics

featuring DV Alias Christ



Wild Cowboys and you know this

Lookin at a Cowboy and you know they're dead



A lot of niggaz stepped up to the bad man

Chest bucked out with your head wide open

Hopin to spot a chip in this frame

I lived and died by the burnin flame

of the OK Corral Cowboy style

From the Quarters on down to Colorado's

Big niggaz from uptown ridin into Tahoe's

Saloon settin kids is walkin round

drinkin whiskey and scotch, strictly out of shotglasses

Lookin screwfaced at the next nigga who passes

There's women in garter belts and ciggarettes

And on the side there's the price game

Niggaz is playin the price game

Indian Red, was bangin niggaz in the head

With his man Apache Joe, they take your money off the floor

They side-bettin for a better, they makin cheddar

That tribal shit is work ya sound the wompom drums

Cause my Indian man'sll break your great dick, UHH

Walk in the New York terrority

On the back of a tree, there's a picture of me

It says I'm lawless, flawless, a hustler plus gun rustler

Wanted in Carolina, for sellin some of New York's finer

Marshal Cooper say he want me, Marshal Cooper gotta get me

Marshal Cooper say beat me, Marshal Cooper better wet me

I gather alla y'all, all of my trusted men

All of my baddest niggaz, niggaz that's quickest with the triggers

There's distrubin news on the wire

That my dome piece is done sent to piece out for hire

I ain't goin down over no money exchange

You late for say I, who reigns as King of the Range?



In this land of wildness

Yo you better pack your vest

In the streets there's nothin but crime

So you best to watch your behind...



Meanwhile saloon settin is back to full swing

Bar's gettin money people doin they thing

There's strictly Boss Players with this kid named Minnesota

As women start to fill up, turn the notch on the grill up

And add mo' stakes to the house banks for gamblers

Half-pipes to scramblers, and free for Wild Cowboys

You never bring decoys if you want to make real nouse

The bigger the stick, the bigger the fire

I never hit a man in the back, a coward acts like that

Lay out my black hat cause I feel like the bad man

Who on the rise, the D's to Manhattan

Let's walk the thirty paces on the Now Rule races

Oh it's the Marshal Cooper, and I love how he doin this

Women sayin don't get hurt, and I ain't plannin on it

Ten steps taken as I hit the blam factor

His dick to act up, was death the benefactor

Leave him twitchin in the dirt like Cousin Harold from the Menace

I'm in this to win this on the great wide trail

I'm ten times as bad as John Wayne, could ever be

Plus I'm down with the Indian, and need high to get the shit again

I'm responsible for that body in the alley

I'll Louisiana Purchase that ass with with Remi's spurs

and hard shots of Tequila, where the dancin girls

Let's get right as the story unfurls

Piano man keep playin, keep them keys bangin

Single man get three graves there's gonna be a hangin

Now this right here ain't for the youth to see

A grown man assed out swingin from a tree



In this land of wildness

Yo you better pack your vest

In the streets there's nothin but crime

So you best to watch your behind



Joe Tex was the biggest hombre from the projects

Had all the work locked down, so he thought

But he drank and got loose lipped, let a lot of news slip

Stripped of his game and got his self murdered

Thoughts of him are passin like the buffalo

Got his self rocked in the ninety-six brand new Acura

Niggaz said it was lightning BLAOW blew out the back mirror

Hah, youknowhatI'msayin? Dig, check it out

They say that Cowboys never die they just ride off into the sun

A little tale from Sadat X of how the WORLD was won

Check it out, remember this

Gun-slingers, dead-ringers with presidents

Is found tied with no explanation of how they died

Yo the great Sadat X, the High Plains Drifter

No question



In this land of wildness

Yo you better pack a vest

In the streets there's nothin but crime

So you best to watch your behind

(repeat to fade)