This is a song about "Malfuckers"

Now all i want is more my little pony toys to play wit

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

You in your after life fitting in hell perfectly

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously

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,