This is a song about "Sweaty palms"

Her breasts were pressed against my wry palms

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box

Walkin through the streets wearin jewels, breakin niggas makin moves

I ain't had a woman in years, and my palms are too hairy to hide (whoops!)

That's why i get cut like i don't fuck with the coach knees

My palms sweaty, the mic's slippin thru cemeteries

See my team has hella cars, i got a couple knots

The mic is now in my palms would you like me to drop bombs

They're my bombs that are in your palms that are evil when you need

Livin' off ya dreams like christina uh-milian in the front seat

Surrounded by the thirst driven sweaty messes blocking the door

Just be there to help me and support me that's what you're here for

As his blood dripped and stained on my palms

A hell of motherfucking road blocks