This is a song about "Table salt"

Fumble or you crumble, get murked on the humble

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

Ha, that make it hard to be faithful

While you stand under the table

You on the table for operation

I’m smoother than alopecia skin

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

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

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

For not being perfectly perpendicular to the table

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

Wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are

No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble

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

Hundred thousand dollars and that’s on champagne

A lot of fools puttin' salt in the game