This is a song about "Out low"

Shoes, louis, prada, groupie blah blah

And eyes low, pardon me, hah

This shit has got my soul

Lay low youll make bank roll

She say how low how low can you go?

Ain't no gimmick with the flow

Do you think i'm crazy

I’m tryna be low key

Low hanging fruit that was me

You a lady boss, now you fly free

Spittin you out like some low-caloric tea i hated

Then i'm bustin' like an uzi when i'm through with that shit

But you hate them navel kisses

With very low attentiveness