This is a song about "Amount"

Frown and a gun lit is all she could amount to confront with

Do you think you'll ever get to the point where you can live

Even if the amount of money is so small

I wish you luck and if you need me, call

Stab him, put a arch on it, pour unleaded gas on him

The amount of temptation surrounds me in isolation

Lyrics slur from my mouth, fuckas watch closely as it occurs with a limited amount

Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round

But the fucking bank account, any any any amount

Never knew a hooker that could share me, i get around

Take a couple bits, bitch kibbles, bitch i gotta riddle

Higher than the amount of confessions in a confessional

My music is like confetti rain when you win a race

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