This is a song about "The three little pigs"

Three major players gettin papers by the layers

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

Put three g's on the three j's signed to the roc/

Then she riding on the topshe about to make it pop

Surrounded by the irony of living in the city

I wanna get back in the ninety-three and see

Why are the little kids having little kids

Just another product of this matrix

If they pigs/5-0/the fuzz we haul out

Put a g spot on a 8 cloud

The first three words she read were "i hate love"

Four out of five try to fake and get serious

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

And when the day end im chilling with three bad bitches