This is a song about "International"

To my makers international

I function with you and you flaunt your pistol

Tito santana matador ain't equipped to stop the bull

International heard applaud to local suburban tour,

My dip gang man, the peeps that'll ride

I'm international, go on a flight,

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Race is international my father isn't actual

Your ex is so desprite he needs an international date line

And he's not fucking working, i think i'm wasting my damn time

Take a couple bits, bitch kibbles, bitch i gotta riddle

I guess she couldn't answer cause i can't call international