text: Ayy
  Ayy, so now Im
  So low that I can see under the skirt of an ant
  So low that I dont get high no more
  When I Geronimo, I just go, Heh
  Solo, my cup is a rojo, my cholo, my friend
  So low that I can admit
  When I hear that another kid is shot by the popo
  It aint an event no more
  So low that no more high horses, so hard to wear Polo
  When I do, I cut the pony off
  Now theres a hole where there once was a logo, how fitting
  So low that I can give a fuck about what is trending
  Tryna cut down on my spending
  Regardless of winning, instead of pretending
  And bending over backwards
  Over half of these hoes had work done
  Sayin they want something real from a man
  Just saying it, we being real persons
  I hate that its like this, I feel for you, ant
  I dont know what its like with a skirt on
  So pardon me if I am being insensitive
  But darling, this only worsens
  So low my halo stay way low, it feels like its bent
  So low that when they throw pussy or pesos
  Dont pay no attention to it
  So low that I am no rookie, but feel like a kid
  Lookin at the other kids
  With astonishment while Im on punishment
  Watchin the summer come close to an end
  After twenty years in, Im so naive I was under the im—
  Pression that everyone wrote they own verses
  Its comin back different and, yeah, that shit hurts me
  Im hummin and whistlin to those not deserving
  Ive stumbled and lived every word, was I working just way too hard?