This is a song about "British tourism"

I’m a king to these niggas, love a queen, fuck the bitches

I need some listerine, see your sister she musta been british,

Ironic this verse was conceived while drivin’ a lex

Blazing gats at flaming fags like british dudes with cigarettes,

I'm on the british south east coast mate

That involve ballpark franks and silver duct tape

Sorry mark i don’t want offend your sisters good friend

Sound like i'm british, bitches dig my accent

Begin to make me feel like a little kid again

Been over seas more times than the british when

British troops intervene

And i put you on the team

If i don’t make it, then somebody tell my son screen

My flow is like a british man, it's motherfuckin' peachy keen,