This is a song about "Amount"

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

While i fill you up with semen from the wolf gang team and

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

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

Account the amount we are paid

I just spit my game out

Tryin have a big amount

Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith

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

Were funny enough to get a bogus amount of props.

See my team has hella cars, i got a couple knots

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

I’m stuntin’ the ferragamo, i’m running that medal pace

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