This is a song about "Fuckin numbers"

And three hours in the showers with the corpse

People wonder at the numbers of hordes

Old rubber burners feed kids, have to run the numbers

One can never be judged when he dress like his brothers

The numbers burst my head

You could say i'm friends with fred

Our debt is crazy because our money is just printed numbers

Which gave me the opportunity of standing out straight on my feet above others

Fuckin everyone, and fuckin everything

Not concerned with most rappers me i'm a king

Girls on the street asking for numbers

Pissin' on the demons of the earth

Mami told me son, hold your own

The numbers unknown, hang up the phone

I remember tripping, walking through the set like my glock don’t think

Pay attention, focus, dividing rappers like numbers in a quotient/