This is a song about "Gayboy"

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,

I like alliterative verses, i like cussing and inovative curses

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

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

Say goodbye to my gpa, but still i got time so i can't quit/