This is a song about "Keehon"

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

Except for the lower class, now what's their purpose?

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/