Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
Dial up words but they're not in service
As a kid thats 3, cursin i ll kill u with just 3 verses
So hurry up its an emergency
Secret service insurgents observe me nervously
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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