This is a song about "Abdulnoor"

Im not worried, or discouraged, you see us and you know we spit mad verses.

Loadin out with my rap service, let it out on the pad i make the whack versions

As they juggle knives for a deadly purpose, entertaining service, recursive

Lines naturally come out of my mind,and end up looking like bad cursive.

Ripe and furbished with lies and cries tied in earth's cervix

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses