This is a song about "Amount"

Trying to be the richest i can amount ya

Monday night wrestling, i’m so fucking raw

Account the amount we are paid

We both had dreams of being great

Family getting bread, well he about to get his loaf cut

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

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

But the fucking bank account, any any any amount

Leaning off the actavis, passing blunts round and round

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

But really i'm just caught in the loop, of understanding the truth

Now mama see that shit on oprah and know that it’s coming

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

With my muscle you'll be dazzled, but hustlin's a hassle

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