This is a song about "Nadim"

Each time you disperse your verses they are hurling curses

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

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

That's why i try to write the best ill verses with real purpose,

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service