Verano Zombie (feat. Gemello)

Oh!
To all the girls
To all the rappers who lock in rhymes
To the writers on the docks
To the DJs with blood under the needles
Oh! on the microphones truceboys on the benches
What's the point of telling you? screw with the twin-transgemellare narcos rap
If you don't spit sh*t, why the hell do you rap?
You want to see the monsters come out of your stereo
Take a big hit of heroin
Don't change dealers, it's all true
No fiction itp connection
Truce deadly session combination
F*ck you fashion
Zulu nation, I can't take it anymore
I drink rum, f*ck MC menu
Nails in voodoo dolls
Your dead body resurfaces at the edge of the boat
F*ck a b*tch and grab the viola
It can happen, mess with the army of darkness
You find your car in ashes on the Lungotevere
I catch the ace up my sleeve
When you're locked in your room practicing disturbances no one imagines
Pay for your sins, shoot your wife
5-point stars on hoodies like Andrea Volpe
Thanks to the crew of unlucky supporters, posters
Kicks on your ghetto blaster monster c*ck
Rock n roll with your p*ssy
Smooth vodka in Russian clubs, p*ss in your muesli
Leslie Nielsen, enter the butcher shop. do butchery
Base and sinister rhymes and go
Pockets of cobret in the narcos-rap headphones
Booster on the east ring road for the blood fest.

Chorus:
Me! I'll avenge! my crew, drink rum, smoke crack, do rap
In the benches, truceclan is strong
I buy my fate from the death dealer.

[Twin]
On the benches, who do you think writes these bombs?
Summer zombie, I steal flowers from your graves
The cook book ruins your life forever
I teach you how to cook the hit with the pipe
Word of mouth like insomnia on the sheets
I smoke another rock on the foil
Can't rhyme your problem with the yellow?
Then throw yourself headfirst on the cement at Caracalla
Rhyming the pain, that's the problem
Censor this every time you spray on your back
I rummage through the trash and eat sandwiches
Then I light up the head in the socks
Survived the attack of my crazy dog
I don't care, I untie you, blood on the calf
Ice on the bruises, I give you chills
Go against itp when you imitate me
You like the violent sound, I dedicate a song to you
My rap is like your ammonia in solution, the dialect on the benches and this bomb in Italian
Gregorio from the tips to deal in San Cipriano
Alchemist my man Tarango offers me
I eat like a spider on the bones of those who suffer
Low neighborhoods when we go down to the sick
We have the reserve of borbuca for the winter
To Baia Sardinia I take you to Umberto Smaila
I put you in a spin on the wheel at Coney Island
I f*ck your fake face, ghetto p*ssy
You're no less trouble than a high-class p*ssy
Who shoots up with shellac and slint
Who likes to make movies like Larry Flint
Who listens to The Specials say Don Caballero
While I hang out with Noyz with the black hood

[Chico]
Eh what? Are you jealous?
Eh what? Are you jealous?
Eh what? Are you jealous?
If my rap in Italian with Noyz is poisonous

[Noyz]
Me! I'll avenge! my crew, drink rum, smoke crack, do rap
In the benches, truceclan is strong
I buy my fate from the death dealer