This is a song about "The italian renaissance"

And let them lames get your old number

In the heat of the summer,

Now i'm laying out at the delano though

But its time to let the renaissance go,

And erase my number out the phones of these fake hoes

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.

The director, host is my agenda, italian leather

'cuz after i drink a bottle, wave my flag and surrender

I'm paramount, nigga, i am, and you can't be mad

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

But compliment her tits and then its off to hump her

Dial the humidifier, arrange the amplifier/

Yeah i ain't done

The bigger the the fun

Took me a while just to write those

The more battles the better the flows