This is a song about "Foreign"

Coconuts ciroc where puff at, never fall in love, don't cuff that

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

Baby, you got that super bass

Driving my car to a foreign place

Damn... my levels foreign wheres ya passport

Oh, not again! another critic writing report

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

This for my niggas hustlin until they last minute

Like 40 scores of foreign wars i bring the bombs

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box

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

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

Foreign drop top coups, and yachts guzzling straight shots a scotch,

You in the past me and future on the same watch