This is a song about "Them numbers"

O.f. is the coldest thing, and i'm the fuckin' general

Proportions of the profit, runnin' numbers in a circle,

Swear i will murk any beat

Them people weak them people weak

This shit would leave rosetta stoned

In numbers as her body decomposed.

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

Runnin' numbers in a circle, proportion box,

Where are you? fraying for numbers on ma screen, i guess your stuck with some thirteen.

Hostile with them hoes, i got a dollar in my pocket plus a dream

Said that they tried to give him like a hundred years

Girls on the street asking for numbers

But she gon’ get this dick and chew me up just like some double mint

Pay attention, focus, dividin rappers like numbers in a quotient

Chomping at your oxygen chords

People wonder at the numbers of hordes