This is a song about "Motasem"

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

Sometimes my lyrics are hard to choose i'm like a women to shoes and purses,

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously

You might collapse and take a nap for all of eternity

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

Snap her adam's apple, have a laugh, and toss her off a bridge