Tiziano Ferro: "Ecco come mi sono preparato per il tour"
Venom [Chorus] In the streets, I'm peepin' game I can't trust you, no no All up in my business, mayne I stay on the low-low Say they really, really fake Can't mess wit' you no mo' Closest people to you hate So I be rollin' solo I'm creepin' on the low-low Creepin' on the low-low Creepin on the low-low I be rollin', I be rollin' solo I'm creepin' on the low Creepin' on the low-low Creepin' on the low-low I be rollin', I be rollin' solo I'm creepin' on the low Mo' money, yeah, mo' problems What Biggie said it look like it true Used to be my homeboy But now I'm paid so they tryna sue My garage got Jaguars My garage look like a zoo Middle finger up for the haters Hope the hater here isn't you Super-cool, that's real cool You can feel like you gotta friend But I ain't trusting my money counter And that's the reason I count again You saw the Forbes (yeah) I'm suspicious Thinking everybody wanna take my riches Can't take my money out my account 'cuz my bank teller get motion sickness Back and forth, b-back back and forth From in the streets or right back in court Candy car built like a tank And my crib built like a fort Let's go to war I ain't George Bush I promise ya'll I'm gon' be prepared 'cuz I ain't trusting my weapon either And that's the reason I keep a spare [Repeat Chorus] I ain't hangin' with none of ya'll Win the Grammy thing Guard the family And all of you gon' leave out If you don't like it, then peace out Look around and I see doubt I been known to get to the presidents like Barack is on speed-dial Yeah, it's all about me now Don't want ya and don't need ya [ Chamillionaire Lyrics are found on www.songlyrics.com ] You don't grind and get to the money And you ain't hungry, I won't feed ya I ain't hangin' with no hater No faker No diva I do it big and they say they did And tryna take my credit like stole Visa If it's lonely at the top (top), I'd rather be alone 'cuz the closest people to ya The ones who gonna do ya wrong Backstabbing me for a broad I promise that I will lose no sleep 'cause Jenny Craig can be your freak But my bank account gon' stay obese [Chorus] (Ludacris) Say you what I'll be doing man I be, creeping lower than low Light another blunt, I'm smoking the dro Chokin', lokin', never provoke him And a drunk'll get popped and I'll open the do' Lungs full of smoke Got me slower than slow Feel like I'm trapped and there's nowhere to go So I, just pull out the bazooka (blah!) Put a fuckin' hole in the flo' Luda! I'm so dope wit' the flow Trunk fulla speakers, pocket fulla ???? How much wood could a wood chuck chuck If a wood chuck could chuck wood Grippin' on the wheel Turn it, turn it Blow another stack I earned it, earned it Blow another amp Pull another tramp Light another blunt Burn it, burn it Flame it up, hear my flow, I changed it up Everybody grab your gats and hold 'em Load 'em, sock 'em, lock 'em, cock 'em and aim it up Bang it up, off in the sky Catch me rollin' off in the ride 26 inches Leave 'em defenseless 45 always tucked in the side Open your eyes, see me cruisin' 'cuz I keep winning and these boys keep losing Plus I'm, the pimp of the year Playas is hatin' and hoes is choosing Look at all the hoes you losing Then look at all the game I got And you can catch me creepin' on the low-low Luda ridin' solo, beatin' the block! [Chorus]