This is a song about "Amount"

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

Were funny enough to get a bogus amount of props.

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

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

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

With an impending mixtape that only seems like a myth

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

Nigga fuck that gin & juice, i'm fuckin with hennessyjust pour me a glass of that dark shit

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

Everybody watching while you touching real money

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

That he felt when he dealt with the physiological phase

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