So pun... it's no new shit and it ain't no fun
Faggot talk shit you'll get whacked call me italian.
Riper than italian rye
They gon tell you that's a lie, lie, lie
If i could call it a sandwich it would be italian
I’ll catch my breath a little, money alright where i’m from
Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free
Take the hits in motion, like you was playing rugby
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
Or that you could ever see me and you in another light
I get thrown around like a rugby ball but atleast i tried,
The director, host is my agenda, italian leather
Maybe they know him better, or i don't know no better
Charlie sheen on them haters, they dont wanna let me win
But this italian is too slick, guess it's my greasy skin.
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