This is a song about "Amount"

Motherfucking 8 balls, til’ we live at the pool hall

Even if the amount of money is so small

Hear these critics talking now, when i see'em open face

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

Waiting holding her stomach but holmes would never find out

But the fucking bank account, any any any amount

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

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Tryin have a big amount

Exit the v wit my gun out

Higher than the amount of confessions in a confessional

It’s hard when starving marcus garvey messed with malcolm little

That you need to set a curfew to the amount of bullshit beefs you fuse.

You wondering why she ain't fucking, we winning, nigga you lose

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