This is a song about "Enzo"

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

An obstacle ill hurdle it while i keep the purple lit

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

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

Like a personal surgeon, searching for tumors emergin' in urchins

Loadin out with my rap service, let it out on the pad i make the whack versions