This is a song about "Table mat"

Riding shotgun uptown,blowin out the bubble

I bled on the bed and then on da table

Flippin' up dough on the mat like gymnastics,

'fore you love you a nigga, try loving your kids

Every since then our whole city been horrible

Ain't gotta brain and nothin' to bring to the whole table,

I'm stuck in triangles, looking for my angel

Wake up six hours later naked on the table

That i'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table

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

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

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

Don’t wanna have me then somebody will

He even offered that and it's still on the table

Who thought he got gonorrhea at a laundry mat.

Your bitch is the type of bitch that's gonna do you bad