This is a song about "Shchlong"

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

I'll imprison your loved ones in burning furnace

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

Lines naturally come out of my mind,and end up looking like bad cursive.

A vital hazard to my rivals, they're primal planners survival's the only sign that matters

Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,