This is a song about "Grayson"

I'm a very lucky man, to have had her love like i did.

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

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously

I'll confess i'm just rushin it, always feels like an emergency

And rhyme like carlcee. i tell about my service like its my own fuckin policy.

Turn like a fuckin waitress. go on this site much as you go to the pharmacy.