This is a song about "Arms weak"

Atomic bombs come like nations at arms

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

Please correct me, stretch marks

With blood running fast down my arms

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

Atomic bombs come like nations at arms

Your arms enfold me, cloak me

Fuck that now trying get the money

So strong, was her will to make her home in his arms,

I be calling out game like miles at the farms

Minus your head legs arms

Finish line with the tire marks