This is a song about "Texpert"

Bow your heads-i see the lines of my beaten artist hearses.

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

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

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

Astrology, monopolies' atrocities, poverty, economy,

And rhyme like carlcee. i tell about my service like its my own fuckin policy.