This is a song about "Cut my arms"

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

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

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

They need work, the freaks here makes their knees work

Ya weed quiet, you broke, y’all eaten lean pockets

I cut the finest weed down, and smoke like my glock clips,

A favorite of my homies when we floss on our enemies

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

I aint stopping till my writing arms had a rest, swag out this world - look how im dressed,

All fifty seein visions of me shot in the chestcouldn't rest, nah nigga i was stressed

Whatever it takes to live and stand

Your face, the feel of you in my arms i can't

Must be something you want me to see

My words cut through like my tongue is a machete,

Pockets swoll like i just cracked a safe

Cut the noose off my neck, black runaway slave