This is a song about "Pikeys"

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously

My punch lines make you bleed internally,

Snap her adam's apple, have a laugh, and toss her off a bridge

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,

Behold signs for the non-believers endless sleepers in this odyssey,

And rhyme like carlcee. i tell about my service like its my own fuckin policy.