This is a song about "Italian food"

I got food in the fridge, i got food in the pantry,

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

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

Wet willy shit, pussy i need a minute

And in this game you the gators' food

Idolizing the struggle of italian guys in a scuffle

To all the sisters with ambition, i see your hustle

Pound you and crush you like some cheap canned food.

Tell them people we ain't leaving go adjust dude

Get my employees up on food stamps and work in fast food,

Influencing your decisions i can't even get a minute

I treat arnette like a net when i stop and shoot

Kinda wack weirdo the kind he eating chinese food

Riper than italian rye

You know i want a piece of that pie