This is a song about "Zizzle"

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,

As the devil walks thru the door they fulfill their self righteous urges

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

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,