This is a song about "Noons"

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

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

Turn you niggas into urns, my furnaces re-furnish,

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

Dial up words but they're not in service

Except for the lower class, now what's their purpose?