This is a song about "Table mat"

Shout out to you shit talkers at my lunch table

I'm stuck in triangles, looking for my angel

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble

I'm just grateful there's a roof and food on the table

Baby, you're an angel

While you stand under the table

Cause when i'm broke i got no time for the fellas. listen

Do you not re-read your shit before you take it to the mat son.

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

I'll still be able to break a motha-fuckin' table

Ha, that make it hard to be faithful

I bled on the bed and then on da table

To say life goes on, now they're counting money on the table

Feel like the only rapper that look at you with no trouble

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

It was like balancing a house of cards on a crooked table,