This is a song about "Lucky circle club"

Feuding over their underground crown in a fight club

And i ain't shallow, material things suppress bad luck

And maybe i am but

She was the queen of the club

Runnin' numbers in a circle, proportion box,

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

O.f. is the coldest thing, and i'm the fuckin' general

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

I'm flowing in a circle

Inhale my color purple

Uh ha, you know what

Who's sneaking in the club?

Its the circle of tyrants and the circle of violence,

It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings