This is a song about "Dfg"

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

Writing line after line i never quit, finish the lyrics now its time to spit.

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

Im #psychophysical, the rap bastard brushin my teeth with the rustiest daggers

You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,

Personally purchase the hearse, attend the service