Uoh, uoh, uoh, uoh
Let's go

Whippin' in the box, you'll find my cell always offline (uh, yes)
Kilos on kilos around my neck even when I'm outside (bu-bu)
You always have the compass pointing south, I think your hype is over (bu-bu, bu)
Bibidi bobidi bu, I have no more rivals in the West Side (let's go), hey

Bibidi bobidi bu, I welcome you bro, it's South-West Milan (Milan)
They know that God is no more, this sky, yes, is not painted blue (let's go)
Where your statistics are down, you need a damn turnover (haha)
And for the bitches I fucked I should receive a Nobel
I'm with my Gs like Blues Brothers, I pay everything without advances (let's go)
On the wrist two hundred and fifty or if you prefer I have a quarter of a millie (bu-bu, Milan)
We're always dressed in black like Mercedes, like undertakers (skrrt, skrrt)
Fucking the game is child's play, these Gs wanna be me because I'm magical
I speak the language that I chew, now I have the knife by the handle
This is Santana, I'm the anti-pop, this anti-pop doesn't block words (Santana)
She's never satisfied, she wants more cocks, mine and my squad's (okay)
My God, I'm still on the street (okay)
But the uncle has a new set of teeth (okay), hey

Whippin' in the box, you'll find my cell always offline (uh, yes)
Kilos on kilos around my neck even when I'm outside (bu-bu)
You always have the compass pointing south, I think your hype is over (bu-bu, bu)
Bibidi bobidi bu, I have no more rivals in the West Side (let's go), hey
Whippin' in the box, you'll find my cell always offline (uh, yes)
Kilos on kilos around my neck even when I'm outside (bu-bu)
You always have the compass pointing south, I think your hype is over (bu-bu, bu)
Bibidi bobidi bu, I have no more rivals in the West Side (let's go), hey
Glory

Bibidi bobidi bu, I make a call and they kill you (ah-ah)
Right into your house, under the shower or in a bathrobe
They come in two, you think they're from Telecom (ah-ah)
He comes and turns off the light, it's not Enel or Edison, ah
Every day with the bad guys, bad guys, Rozzano, bro, it looks like Baghdad
We're still thrown on the street, we have grass, smoke and bamba
We smoke on the plane, in major, when we're in the club, bro (ah-ah)
We're full of iron like horse meat (ah)
Old Fashion, Just Cavalli, we're always crossed (always)
Three on a Kawasaki (ah-ah), green Wasabi sauce
Write me on WhatsApp, WhatsApp, I'm not online anyway
I have two cell phones in my pocket and they ring all the time (you know?)
I spend all in the night and on whores, they are my weak point (ah-ah)
I can choose between Magda, Chloe, Evelyn or Deborah (ah-ah)
Before putting her doggy style I spent three legs at Sephora (and then?)
Another three poles from Yves Saint Laurent (ah-ah)
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera

Whippin' in the box, you'll find my cell always offline (Hey)
Kilos on kilos around my neck even when I'm outside (bu-bu)
You always have the compass pointing south, I think your hype is over
Bibidi bobidi bu, I have no more rivals in the West Side (Santana)

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