This is a song about "Maya andrea"

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,

Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,

I'm hot like the backlash backdraft from sugar packets packed with anthrax

You and i were basically brothers

Dial up words but they're not in service