This is a song about "Amount"

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

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

The amount of temptation surrounds me in isolation

And i got a girlfriend so i'm a keep lying until the verse end, fin

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

I'm at morgan, howard, coppen, trying to find that higher knowledge

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

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

You gotta keep your sense of humoryou gotta be able to smile through all this bullshit

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

Riding that big body, shorty be hitting the curb

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

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

I probably would wear 'em but my dick don't fit