This is a song about "Italian"

If you ain't talkin' dollars then i don't see where you comin' from

If i could call it a sandwich it would be italian

But this italian is too slick, guess it's my greasy skin.

Now me, tony, g, and tre got the keys to the nation

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her

The director, host is my agenda, italian leather

Shit and run back to the lab, need assistance from

Faggot talk shit you'll get whacked call me italian.

Riper than italian rye

All you niggas die

Idolizing the struggle of italian guys in a scuffle

Don't fuck around and make it truemy adversaries crumble

Hit yo ho with a muthafuckin baseball bat

No matter if you black, once you go italian you won't back,

I shall not fear no man but godthough i walk through the valley of death

Remember meeting you in those italian heels and that designer dress