This is a song about "Geneva switzerland"

My moschino that fire, bet you never seen that

Paid for trips to italy for me, her, my bro and dad.

Riding around without a fuck given

Your swag sweater looks like swiss cheese when i get done

I eat wack rappers like im from hungary

Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free

"get on your knees bitch please i'll make you into swiss cheese"

Put you in jimmy choo and you ain't even chinese

Everybody watching while you touching real money

Yo i got, guns from italy, smoke trees, considerably

Flyin’ through the city, all-black, bruce wayne

I must be living in spain

Her nose is whiter than russia in the winter time

I don't shop in the public, ain't finna wait in line

Hot like spain, run by a guy named satan

Hot where i'm from, the newscasters don't come