This is a song about "Amit sucks balls"

After i axed the guy who asked why my rappin' sucks.

That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups

And of course, my car's off course

Sittin on bowling balls

Freestyle but that fuckin' rap you wrote, it sucks,

And finally, everyone got their own problems

Amit says he wants to do it, well i guess we gotta do it

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Your flow sucks like plastic straws

Organized crime, i kill your boss

Leaping in the limelight sucks

Don’t let me talk about the deal ones

Swear to god that i can solve them without involving revolving michael or amit

When she was pregnant i'm surprised i ain't retardedat night i can't sleep, count sheep

He's known as amit, i call him mr. do or die

Fresh to death, when i step, you can hear momma's cry