This is a song about "Amount"

Account the amount we are paid

Im washin off another plate

Can't forget the amount of words, flipping heck it's just absurd

Don't try to compare this to anything you ever heard

Were funny enough to get a bogus amount of props.

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

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

They hatin'/ saying i ain't amount to nothing well your right i should simply embrace it

Bet i get it quick lick make it backflip outta town with some how you gonna act shit

I smoke sweets in the suite, like shit is legal

Rationing the amount of trust i put into people

Mr. i-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you what they callin' him

The amount of temptation surrounds me in isolation