This is a song about "Italy mafia"

Folarin never walk in prada and talk of a price

On some mafia shit but i ain't fucking with that gang life

See i live by the code that the mafia wrote

Had a dream like martin luther, little bit of hope

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

And they say i'm over heads cuz they don't understand... that

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

And you don’t understand my slang my colloquial’s lovely