This is a song about "Mardi gras"

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,

Ripe and furbished with lies and cries tied in earth's cervix

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

Im steady surgin' with verses, deadly but on the surface im nervous

The mask is on 'em like a catholic service