This is a song about "Tala"

And beside any implied pride applied, we'll always confide, in you mamma

In a formation of a comma, an unsolvable force like a raga

As they juggle knives for a deadly purpose, entertaining service, recursive

Sometimes my lyrics are hard to choose i'm like a women to shoes and purses,

You never wanted dis to happen but det was your courtesy

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously