The bass pushes like your husband pushes
The bass pushes like your husband pushes
The bass pushes like your husband pushes
The bass pushes -pushes -pushes -pushes -pushes

I'm really euphoric
The Codacons hasn't sued me yet
Today I really want to hurt myself
The sin is mentioned but not the cardinal
There's a party in the Holy See
We sit down and we do it
In the Vatican there's no sperm bank
Because they're too thirsty over there

Better a live bitch
Than a dead cat
Take your spoon
And taste this cake
I have a hot trigger
Call me M¥SS KETA
That's why when I come, it's game over

The bass pushes like your husband pushes
The bass pushes like your husband pushes (oh, finally, M¥SS)
The bass pushes (one who interprets my thoughts)
Like your husband pushes (I know it may seem strange to some but the husband)
The bass pushes -pushes -pushes -pushes -pushes (the husband, especially from central Italy)
(It's irresistible)

The real men who come from Norcia
With the beard and the double chin
Scandalous like Pope Borgia
Kick to the seven that becomes an orgy
I must have written ten thousand rhymes
Not even one though that matches
With the cream that is created
Indecent inside the pool

The bass pushes and I am her husband
I lick her finger and she says: "This is my favorite piece"
We have raised the chalices too much
The next day they do the analysis
Don't worry, my husband is old
And he's cleaner than Damiano from Måneskin

The bass pushes like your husband pushes
The bass pushes like your husband pushes
The bass pushes like your husband pushes
The bass pushes -pushes -pushes -pushes -pushes

Hey, miss, where are you, bitch?
With my favorite man, your husband, sis
He pushes the bass like a madman, we send you a kiss
We wait for you under the bass if you want to make a threesome

Hey, sis, let's take off our clothes
With our feet, with our hands
Yeah, all wet, safety car
Here we risk aquaplaning
Fuse, fuse, rich
Fuse, fuse, cool (yeah)
If I slice it
It tastes bitter like radicchio

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