This is a song about "Arms"

I, own guns, got my own arms dealer

I got something you've been waiting for

Uhh, i woke up and screamed, fuck the world

Hanged, burned to death, shot while my arms are severed,

Atomic bombs come like nations at arms

Hit the green like running backs with no yards

Wrap my arms around you and cuddle.

Shout out them strippers who hustle

You know how jay-z said he wasn't going for the charts

Had to watch to my own brother die in my arms

And my answer was look deep and dont fall in different arms

Killed by the violent kids equipped with firearms

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

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

Masked up, this ain't trick or treat, one wrong move they finna squeeze

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