This is a song about "Fugazy"

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

Lines naturally come out of my mind,and end up looking like bad cursive.

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

Dial up words but they're not in service

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

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