This is a song about "Adain leaving our table"

Count your baby daddy’s now, 2 and a possible

I'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table

I was twelve when the gunned you

I set a table for two

You're mentally disable,you're like snacks to randy ,you're on his table.

Hustlin in our hoods , slanging nothing but the goods / street to street you will

But don't expect a ring if you committed to the hustle

Wrecking and leaving em, it's unbelievable/

Lady at the frank stand will

While you stand under the table

Boy, i’m doin’ my damn thing

So we just kept leaving

Now this is what i call an evening

So yall people best be leaving

I'm going to bury you in this box i made outta your own kitchen table

I tried to convince them but those guys are dull, they just kicked their minds outta their skull.