This is a song about "Amount"

I swear these off rhyme bums are full of hate

Account the amount we are paid

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

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

Even if the amount of money is so small

They ain't hard, swear to god, these niggas ain't real at all

After i dig her up and then eat her out with a bit of mustard

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

Tryin have a big amount

If you to check out

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

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

The amount of temptation surrounds me in isolation

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

Surrounded by the irony of living in the city