This is a song about "Close"

Close/ your chapter of so-called "track classics"

Had i not been exposed to these things

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

I'm runnin' screen homies, you can let that socket close

Listen close, and let your mind visualize

I'm the author for gangsters, tough guys

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

Actually i like a broad that can bag hoes

I'm throwin around broads playing monkey in the middle

Managers are merciful, close up, and personal.

It came so close to being the end

Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest

Just to let you know, you are

Keep ya friends close enimies closer