This is a song about "Mots"

Whatever it takes to make a hit

On some rakim, tribe, big, kane, pun, em, and pac shit

Dial up words but they're not in service

Ever since i wrote raps first, i knew i'd write perfect verses,

Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/

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