This is a song about "Italy england"

Paid for trips to italy for me, her, my bro and dad.

Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack

I'm the king of england this shit too cold,

Doing time in the pen and your gram's old

I'm the king of england with my ships of gold,

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

You smell that? that's the odor of success bitch

I live in england where them bitches rich,

Yo i got, guns from italy, smoke trees, considerably

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money

You're like the sun and winter, my pot of gold

I'm the king of england france was getting old,

She keep her eyes open and her fucking mouth closed

I'm the king of england and you cunts have been told

Probably in england sipping on tea,while watching tv

Sometimes you go stores and buy everything that you see