This is a song about "Foreign"

Oh, not again! another critic writing report

Damn... my levels foreign wheres ya passport

Cause i’ve been counting all this dirty paper for a minute

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

Driving my car to a foreign place

Ever since grandma died, everyone parted ways

This for my niggas hustlin until they last minute

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

Gettin good graces, take his money, aa-another one

Are my words really so foreign and impossible to fathom?

Ya can't stand it when someone talks shit about ya marijuana hits.

And try to deplete foreign populations creating complications.

Like 40 scores of foreign wars i bring the bombs

Can't see his son shine like the four tops