Paisano's Wylin

Swerve

Banzini

Uhh

Fugetaboutit

Paisano's wylin

Paisano's wylin

Paisano's wylin

Paisano's wylin

Uhh

Red wine on errthing

Red wine on errthing

Red wine on errthing

Last call, it won't cost you anything

I stay wylin

I stay wylin

I stay wylin

Paisano's wylin

Banzini

Say I won't rock Fubu, sucka

I don't do what you do, sucka

Waka Flocka Waka Waka

Westside like I'm 2Pac-a

(Westsiiiide!)

Hrrrrrrrr like I'm Chewbacca

(Star Wars, boy!)

Hrrrrrrrr like I'm Chewbacca

Yo, I might just throw a Buddha round my necklace

They think paisano's wylin, that boy reckless

Cuz erryboy rockin Jesus pieces

I'm just doin what y'all doin, wearing stuff I don't believe in

Yuuup

You don't need skill for new rap

Check the first verse

You know I proved that

Takin them selfies, girl why would you do that?

You know it's wack, and I do not approve that

I said red wine I don't mean where the booze at

I'm talkin an offer you just can't refuse that

On a swag boat, I'm the captain

You can walk the plank for the yapping

Boooooooi!

Hey yo, rappers carry my mother's groceries, dawg

Out of respeeeeect!

Thirty chains around my neck

Mr. T and velour sweat

I got em like what's next?

I'm gonna be like an acappella

Social Club be them good fellas

Only good cause He met us

I'm a big mess, and couldn't be better

Annnnnh, whatever, whatever I'm wylin!

Wylin, wylin, wylin

It's the 116 and the Misfits, and we wylin

Wylin, wylin, wylin

Hey, yo, put my mom on the guest list

I'm so awkward it's impressive

Girl's like who the heck's this

You're kinda weird, but I respect it

I'm just young, Italian, and reckless, and we wylin!

Listen, under normal circumstances

When someone's running their piehole

Just give 'em a good smack to the face

But I don't handle things the way I used to

I am a Christian boy now, you understand? Capicé?

Listen, you keep on running your piehole

And I'm gonna take you over to my grandmother's house

For a nice Sunday dinner

She'll have the kirchoff flakes

The fresh mozarella, the marinara

We'll have a real good time

When you can't eat anymore

We'll have 'er open up the fridge

And take out the canolis

And the pustard shots

And keep feeding you

And feeding you and feeding you

Eh?

Then I'm gonna drive you home

Throw you in the bathroom, lock the door

And burn every piece of toilet paper you own

You schmutz

God bless you and your family