This is a song about "Divas"

Except for the lower class, now what's their purpose?

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

I'm hot like the backlash backdraft from sugar packets packed with anthrax

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

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

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