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joel jungle - numbers (circle) lyrics

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surprise, kamikaze splashin like jimmy snuka
off the top of the cage don muraco probli sue us
i’m out+of+sp+cing’, only fiends grab the weed and lace it
your style loose, my flow tighter than a ankle bracelet
your life a movie right? you shouldn’t be on stages
the hardest part about you is the front like yellow pages
jungle start coastin, i see comets when i look up
ridin a spectrum of color you see when i lift my hood up
just because you see wit two es don’t mean it’s free
stabbing bloggers in they necks when they talk about me
i get the еngine running, no more moves on foot
riflе looking like a coat rack, leave my sleeve on cook
i spit fire, ghost rider motorcycle the way i run it
i bring f u to wherever the fun is
tuesday’s and fridays like trash trucks we dump those
annihilating the opposition, my bars stunt growth
dreaming of sailin thru italy, gun & blunt smoke
michael corleone spittin’ bombsh+lls at a nuns throat
i used to ride a mongoose wit pegs on it, then someone stole it
a snake is a snake ‘cause they don’t have hands for ya heart to hold it
so take the illest step back and view the bigger picture
let those toxic people go, like clothes that don’t grow witcha
use my style to be the greatest, goku on his ape sh+t
load the lyrical clip hear the pen hand you a facelift
the opportunity for you to bust guns just take it
i’ll stick in you in a box, those ain’t ya stripes frosted flakin
my raps come fresh like every human born naked
you came close like two sides of a rip trying to tape it
not good enough, push your sh+t back two feet
that’s enough to see your thoughts come to life on concrete
like sellin mosquito repellent, whole world get off me
or ill toss heat in your direction, like serving coffee

7+11 shootin dice, i roll a rapper like runtz
competitive vision like elmer & bugs holding up guns
i dropped the armor on the field & start slicing like kratos
god of war on the mic, n0body else got the say+so
my poetry always got double a’s like maaco
you can’t talk heavy if you’re not able to hold a draco
painting pictures like beat street, i spray the wall like ramo
50 years in the future they’re gonna wonder how i made those
classics like, baseball cards placed in sleeves
a simple formula that i call jbe
every night is the same, hot boxin in the whip
i don’t drink no more, but for my loved ones i still pour a fifth
paranoid, sometimes i gotta malcolm x my window
in between the blinds focused minds can hear the wind blow
difficult times , can it be all so simple?
mixing wit jazz samples klint beastwood drop the intro
sharks flexing their t++th but can’t keep up with the fin flow
i get high like volume after adding the crescendo
you gotta stay away from creeps that get you mixed into dumb sh+t
i don’t trust you if your circle doesn’t match the circumference



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