ContraVein - Mr.International

Mr. International, uh, yeah
Hoppin’ off a jet to get right up in a Wraith, yeah
Sippin’ on ciroc, yeah I think I need an eighth
Kill a mothafucka but it’s all in good faith
Mr. International, uh, yeah
Hoppin’ off a jet to get right up in a Wraith, yeah
Sippin’ on ciroc, yeah I think I need an eighth
Kill a mothafucka but it’s all in good faith
Slurpin’ down the ‘purp chokin’ down a Percocet
Boutta go berserk, always gotta rep the set
Never gotta work, we be here, on the set
Yeah I got a quirk, never gonna change the set
Fish n chips in London, Italy’s got some wine
Paris got them crepes after standin’ in that line
Designer Gucci belt, 250 pounds
A trip to the bar with 150 rounds
International
International
International
International
Mr. International, uh, yeah
Hoppin’ off a jet to get right up in a Wraith, yeah
Sippin’ on ciroc, yeah I think I need an eighth
Kill a mothafucka but it’s all in good faith
Mr. International, uh, yeah
Hoppin’ off a jet to get right up in a Wraith, yeah
Sippin’ on ciroc, yeah I think I need an eighth
Kill a mothafucka but it’s all in good faith
You don’t know what I’ve been through
Mothafucka I’m with you hoppin’ right out of a coupe
And I ain’t afraid to shoot
I got eyes on Budapest
Cuz you know CV’s the best
Blast it on repeat for the rest
International
International
International
International
International
International
International
International

Written by:
Jason Ardan

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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