This is a song about "Tutu and bows"

All the women of color i'm in love with your skin

Until he bows out or he shits his bowels out of him

I’m tryna be low key

Living young and wild and free

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Girl your body lookin’ like a fuckin’ pot of gold

Busta-ass motherfuckers tried to flee

And a fridge and some broccoli

I fear no opponent

Social conditioning and

He who bows the knee, shall be brought down to grief/

And danced around the house in all-over print panties

If we ain't right and always at the throats

You rain-bows, so you just skittles in plain clothes

Riddles and jokes and scary crows

Man i swear she's bad and she knows