This is a song about "Benchpress"

Dial up words but they're not in service

I'll imprison your loved ones in burning furnace

Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/

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

I'm above the average rapper cause this is crack i spit

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