This is a song about "Arms"

Stabbing and gashing at me, thrashing my arms and motherfucken knees

I swear my peoples keep a strapped like pinky in the movies

And in those third world countries it's used like soviet arms,

I be calling out game like miles at the farms

Rack city, rack city she need a shovel

Wrap my arms around you and cuddle.

Tire marks, tire marks

Tug these sleeves up my arms

Huh, i can't interpret her

I, own guns, got my own arms dealer

I'll break your bones in both arms

You haters put up your guards