This is a song about "Tombat"

Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/

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

Cause i got zero consumer surplus

Dial up words but they're not in service

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

An obstacle ill hurdle it while i keep the purple lit