This is a song about "Italian numbers"

Old rubber burners feed kids, have to run the numbers

Know it hurts that she flirts with a nigga this is worse

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

Anyways give it up the capital the nation

Pay attention, focus, dividing rappers like numbers in a quotient/

You see coming up, we ain’t have that shit to keep our mind focused

We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots

Runnin' numbers in a circle, proportion box,

If i could call it a sandwich it would be italian

But if she ain't gonna smoke it ain't gon' happen

Chomping at your oxygen chords

People wonder at the numbers of hordes

Where fiends always on that water like a lily pad

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

Look, i tried to call it quits

Mo' green numbers than the matrix