This is a song about "Foreign"

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

Wear my hat to the back, i'm in a different kind of mood

Gotta bad foreign bitch stupid thick gotta in the game now she runnin shit

I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket

And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

Driving my car to a foreign place

Ya'll don't move em' you dudes is at that slow pace

Damn... my levels foreign wheres ya passport

Oh, not again! another critic writing report

Pockets morbidly obese, i'll be tourin for loot

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

We getting money, you can face the facts

Rich hypocrites permit war on foreign lands

Like 40 scores of foreign wars i bring the bombs

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops