This is a song about "Glass tables"

I can barely wipe my ass

With shards of ice and glass

At it with glass- what matters?

I got a lot of manners

With shards of ice and glass

Got my foot on the gas

Slapping labels on foreheads and recording excuses in tables

Every time she catch feelings she go throw away the gloves

Any nigga that step gets cut volcanic glass,

I'm just taking names, then i'm kickin' ass

The tables have turned, now i'm the favorite

Ya'll don't even know the name of my flip

Stack in his hand trynna make that last

And ill shatter you like glass

Gotta make that cash

Up until i hit glass