This is a song about "Amount"

Went thru my phone saw a text, and then she wrote her a message

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

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.

Sex is just a weapon, i can leave you wet from this pistol

Higher than the amount of confessions in a confessional

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

This my zombie circus, you better get a fuckin' ticket

Were funny enough to get a bogus amount of props.

My driver's out of this world, you playing bumper cars

Keep it real as penitentiary steelthis ain't no freestyle battle

Better hope you can handle the amount of beef in ten cattle

Niggas fuck with your boy, i can make you some money

But no amount could amount to a rap that could damage me

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

Bow our heads, say our grace, make it out the hood was amazing grace