This is a song about "No weapons"

Okay you dancing drinking on your last one

Words are weapons, life's a bitch, teach that bitch a lesson,

Or classic misdirection it's a collection of weapons of war

While his fiends for cream well exceeded the dream she once lived for

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

No....u cant handle these weapons!

This is the shit that is makin' me cynical

But my words are weapons, my pistol pistol

Take a second to mention- my unrelenting obsession of weapons

Cry, die, tie, then sigh from relief from bottling up too much grief ever since

With these raps we mend, recommend you get your best of men, to pen their weapons

Put me somewhere my 3rd eye all scared but i feel like its been open since

My weapons and red hands express i'm psychotic,

Hypetrack that and send it, nigga it's a sack shit

You waking the dead, don't test me hoe my weapons is real

Okay i think its time we make moves, no clothes required here