This is a song about "Amount"

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

Highest form of respect, if you say you're not ready

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

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

Your toes and your thighs shakingi eat it upshe said i'm ready to fuck

Ain't heard a nigga thorough, it ain't perfect, but i work

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

They frontin', they charles s. dutton movin' garbage

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

So don't ask me why they strung out

Tryin have a big amount

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.

Okay i'm trying to hit, something's just gotta give

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