Hang 'Em High

Artist: Sadat X f/ DV Alias Christ Album: Wild Cowboys Song: Hang 'Em High Wild Cowboys and you know this Lookin at a Cowboy and you know they're dead A lot of niggas 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 niggas 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 Niggas is playin the price game Indian Red, was bangin niggas 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 niggas, niggas 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 wanna 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 Niggas 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)