This is a song about "Fuck pigs"

My weed and my broad exotic with no seeds

Them to the pigs while their alive and hang them by leads

Pick up my knife and slaughter cops in my own house, pigs everywhere like a slaughterhouse,

When the truth came out i'm a rapper not a poet "aka" the people's mouth

Hit the club and i let it fly, claim you balling nigga telling lies

I say middle finger to the pigs/ analyze my words cause thats how i live/

Sirens blaring pigs believe im caring but lately you hear me tearing

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

The only thing i did wrong was make it possible

Apb called for killin two pigs in the field, hittin a double

Cause in my criminal mind, nobody violates the don

She's like "son show these pigs what kinda bacon you're on."

Pigs calling me disrespectful cus im still yawning

Fuck the fat lady, it's over when all the kids sing