This is a song about "Ana domeq"

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

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

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,

Snap her adam's apple, have a laugh, and toss her off a bridge

I write for inspiration, to spark communication with others,

Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,