This is a song about "Amount"

But i told them every single day that i'd amount to something

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

It is not hard, swear to god. these niggas ain't real at all

Even if the amount of money is so small

Tryin have a big amount

Stuntin when we out

But she only fuck with boss niggas - lames, you outta luck

Rust from the amount that pile up, never to touch and filled with blood.

Rationing the amount of trust i put into people

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

I hope to live in a big house with a huge amount of space/

I’m stuntin’ the ferragamo, i’m running that medal pace

But really i'm just caught in the loop, of understanding the truth

That you need to set a curfew to the amount of bullshit beefs you fuse.