This is a song about "Benedicte"

I'm not even fucking joking i don't play around in verses

The mask is on 'em like a catholic service

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,

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

Say goodbye to my gpa, but still i got time so i can't quit/