This is a song about "Italian numbers"

If i could call it a sandwich it would be italian

I could spend a whole damn advance on some kicks and some pants son

We come through throbbing like thunder storms

People wonder at the numbers of hordes

Old rubber burners feed kids, have to run the numbers

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

Verizon dissed me too cause i was too political

Idolizing the struggle of italian guys in a scuffle

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

A real live tale about a snitch named haitian jack

The numbers unknown, hang up the phone

The kings get killed very least overthrown

Remember meeting you in those italian heels and that designer dress

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

So let me tell you about this guy

Riper than italian rye