This is a song about "Dubagio"

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

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

Dial up words but they're not in service

And then bitch-slap her on purpose,

As they juggle knives for a deadly purpose, entertaining service, recursive

Sometimes my lyrics are hard to choose i'm like a women to shoes and purses,