This is a song about "Circle"

If me and those close in my circle didn't meet/

J big as a muffler, we puff that meineke weed

And everything is purple

Some, my emotions are a circle,

I'll push this fucking pregnant clown into a hydrant stuck in the ground

That collectively murks ur style and the circle u stay around//

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

Runnin' numbers in a circle, proportion box,

I probably go less miles, stayin in a smaller circle

So when i mention suicide, i'm being mr. literal

Black clouds circle my weary head

My god come before this bread

See, there's a war going on and i'm the general

Proportions of the profit, runnin' numbers in a circle,