This is a song about "Table salt"

Cause my mother let me do what i want

Those are your wounds this is the salt

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

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

Never seen you as lyrical

Extra salt on the frizzle

To make karma come faster than she normally will

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

Like salt and pepper, no equivalent

Every nigga can't dunk, some white man can jump

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

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Here's the artist putting salt where you scar is

So i’ma be aight for the night with a goodbye kiss

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

Throw some salt and alcohol on that wound to make it safer