This is a song about "Broken arms"

Streaks are made to broken

Yeah, waiting for a change to come

You haters put up your guards

For you to hold me in your strong arms

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

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

Hold your arms cry and wallow

Never break, took a break though

That you were in my arms

Tire marks, tire marks

Superdome's the #battlefield, call this shit jordin sparks,

I'mma deranged animal cannabal eating human arms