This is a song about "International macroeconomics"

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

You're reaching new heights, and i ain't kiss you just a little

Race is international my father isn't actual

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Beetle the skin on my female that's word to cee-lo she fine

Your ex is so desprite he needs an international date line

International heard applaud to local suburban tour,

Nigga had the fucking nerve to call me immature

And i like my marijuana bright

I'm international, go on a flight,

They just need convincing like malcolm little

To my makers international