This is a song about "Nico the italian"

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Aroma, strong enough to bring ‘em outta coma

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

I split the blunt and rolled the fat one up deadly -- babylon beware

We're out with the stars, you're on your way to the best night ever

The director, host is my agenda, italian leather

Run a cartel like a real rick ross

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

And i love you all

From the bench to the ball

Shit and run back to the lab, need assistance from

If i could call it a sandwich it would be italian

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

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