Dial up words but they're not in service
You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,
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,
Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service
Im steady surgin' with verses, deadly but on the surface im nervous
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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