This is a song about "Close"

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Managers are merciful, close up, and personal.

Ive come *this* close to snapping

Hating my macking, they asking

Like a line full of hoes

Woo dame that was too close

Keep ya friends close enimies closer

The ice ain't really nothing to her

The pain don't stop, but my reign don't stop

Couldn't write lyrics close to em or aesop,

Shawty was pinkberry sweet and i ain't lactose

Ethnic whites in new york city, tight-knit, keep close,

I'ma get this girl that be stuffin my bricks

This baphomet devil isn't close to benevolence,

Can't touch me, can't even close

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose