This is a song about "App store"

I'm a lost soul, twisted lyricist with mischief in store

Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for

Searching for fortune and famethe one thing we all adore

To go from sellin’ bags to bottles right out the store

And slid back north of course to pen more

Spitting by the door or to slow how i store

If yall aint get it, the store is a front, front is a store

My visions that i record, the instruments i adore

Like checkin' inventory you dont know what's in store

My ambition is ammunition if this is war

Fuck it! i go until my 40 millionth encore

Of my ideas, you not gonna know whats in store

Replaced by freak shit i am currently down for

He's being cornered, with little ammo in store

Keep talking, get you snatched for that scratch, clapped with the mac

Amir is a boss who wrote the rappad app