This is a song about "Supermari fucko"

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.

I'll imprison your loved ones in burning furnace

The mask is on 'em like a catholic service

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

Simply unable to afford four little pills that cost only a few dollars