This is a song about "Three laws of motion"

At the age of fuckin three

To them it's just a story

Bags under my 'isaac', grinding to the laws of motion

I spit that garden of game, look at the hoes on him

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die

It's written in the constitution and in the laws of fbi, cia, or csi

Three large carts full of tards crammed into an amusement park,

She bend it over, make that thing look like a work of art

That causes the fucking motion

You're uncool like my mother kin

Hoping that hip-hop can surface and go-go again

You couldn't even name three kings at the top of ya brain,

Imaginary senses manifest in your motion.

Mix a little syrup, it ain't no way to cure him

Third ward general, young cash money

Two or three, hits of thc, yeah it fits for me.