This is a song about "Runescape"

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

Writing line after line i never quit, finish the lyrics now its time to spit.

You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

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/