This is a song about "Gun arms"

I should sign up to be one of his bodyguards

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

Scars up and down my arms

Please correct me, stretch marks

Hold on you can see my vision

Escaping from my fucken gun

With blood running fast down my arms

All on the furniture with no regards

I, own guns, got my own arms dealer

I rush to tend her, talked as i touch her

You haters put up your guards

Tug these sleeves up my arms

Just give me a carrot gun

I'm caged up in state prison