This is a song about "Sitting at a table"

Cause see way back, i thought to fuck with you was impossible

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

The neighbors. but i know for a fact i am able to top the charts flip the table.

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

Sitting in my room at night wishin id die

Now everybody put your hands up high

Of town,we were quick to invade,now my lyrics getting bare airplay,im already smart my birds

Your mother was a baby boomer i fucked her on a table at hooters and passed her to my shooters

You could just be sitting at home watching television

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

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

Trying to keep his head up while his eyes are in the bible

He's got his face in a mask, your blood stains on his glass table

I can make music that makes sense, but not meant to be stable

As time ticks forward he comes closer to the end, sitting at the end of his bed holding a pen

Embracin my dick whenever i use em, erasin my stress whenever i lose em.