This is a song about "Amount"

It's a man's worldbut real women make tha shit go around

But the fucking bank account, any any any amount

Trying to be the richest i can amount ya

They infiltrate our homes, africa

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

But every other part of you make me wanna depart and

Account the amount we are paid

And that was when i was in the eighth grade

All you want is a good amount of dough, and to shoot a bitch/

Lot of intuition, i ain't never finished college

It gives us peace then all in the town is quiet

Mother could care less , i never could amount to shit,

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

I'm a form a petition, someone gotta be listening

And i don’t gotta front, i play these niggas like a wisdom tooth

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