This is a song about "Wrist"

I'm a shotty with a mullet when i call it, use it to the fullest

Erupting volcanic, satanic cutting, wrist after wrist, im not sad im just pissed,

No watch on my wrist or pain on my fist

How they stand there, cuffed up, patient

Designer shit, though i’m modest, astonishing to be honest

Its so murderous and impervious how i work my wrist

Work that wrist im the maestro,

Got it matching though

Before your wrist is snapped

I'll get to em when i land

If i said that all of that was faker than a clean wrist,

If i ain't get em yet, believe their name is on the short list

I wear peace on my wrist, but i'm not sure it exists

Heavenly father, martin, malcolm mixed with them lyrics

I got money mind and money on my wrist

Now i’m armed and i’m fayetnam’s finest