This is a song about "Mapcam"

Dun giving a shit, beating the crap outta males in a fighter pit.

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

Like a personal surgeon, searching for tumors emergin' in urchins

Loadin out with my rap service, let it out on the pad i make the whack versions

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

Audiences respect the witty girlness and not that dissing curtness.