This is a song about "Motorcycling"

I'm not even fucking joking i don't play around in verses

Dial up words but they're not in service

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

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

Is low and is only get worsed you might as well be under a curses

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