This is a song about "Worldcup"

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

I write for inspiration, to spark communication with others,

All u do is study geology, what i spit was a sign of terminal velocity,

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

This shits nuts, inclined but the signs worsen/ trying to lift up your minds curtains

Loadin out with my rap service, let it out on the pad i make the whack versions