Driving in Milan, driving in Milan
Testarossa, G-U-È
With the windows down (5ive)
And the red bandana, red
Ddusi gives me a beat, I promise, I’ll—
Driving in Milan, in Milan
In a Testarossa, Testarossa
With the windows down, with the windows down
And the red bandana, the red bandana, red**
Driving in Milan with the windows down
Passenger seat, she’s bumping the bass (Ah, ah, ah)
Blacked-out windows, she’s so good, I swear, I’ll crash the Urus (Uh)
Nine to twenty-one, it pierces the large intestine (Ah)
I sit these rappers down, they pray on their knees (Ah-ah)
Then I take my daughter to the Bicocca park
The G is more money like the Jordan Retros
The G is pure white, not a pack of Mentos (Ah-ah)
With Diego’s jersey, they suck up to me in sync
I’m scoring, wearing and writing only archive pieces (Oh)
I don’t take pizza by the meter (Nah), just pizza by the ounce (Seh)
These rappers are whiny, at the wrist your recording
One for the money, two for the money (Ahah)
Driving in Milan, in Milan
In a Testarossa, Testarossa
With the windows down, with the windows down
And the red bandana, the red bandana, red
Driving in Milan with the windows down
Hands in your face if you’re not behaving
I grab a beer at the corner bar
Tato is revving up, taking the whole avenue the wrong way and
Big city life, I’m outside with the city boys
Ferrari style, my life seems like a video game
Partner in crime, me and her like Bonnie and Clyde
Bomboclaat, she’s betrayed you, but you don’t know
Hennessy feels like gasoline in my cup
I’m rocking the club, I’m the north side
I take Bicocca to the sky, I’m like Elon Musk
In my hotel suite, bring Blanc de Blanc
Spending in Monte Napo’ (At least a stack)
I’m with G Pequeno (With G Pequeno)
With the windows down (No roof)
Showing the middle finger (Go fuck yourself)
Driving in Milan, in Milan
In a Testarossa, Testarossa
With the windows down, with the windows down
And the red bandana, the red bandana, red
Gang stuff, driving around Milan, it feels like Memphis
I’m with gangsters and baddies
Daylight robberies, you think it’s a joke, a candid
But it’s real life, not wrestling
Keep the door open if you leave
Pour us some cognac, some brandy
I’ll give you my keys, park it
Five stars and G Pequeno