This is a song about "Nico the italian"

And i can't help but stare, cause

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

Cold, my style making my nose run

Eyes poked out the the raven

The bigger the the fun

On the bible you can run

And she looking for them trees, baby we got some

If i could call it a sandwich it would be italian

Of the baby not bein' digested by a fuckin' hungry punk

The water from the past is the same water in the present

Might want to purchase some game, homey your shit is so wack

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

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

To get it in, any minute, i'll be hit with a stare