Girl, can I say something?
You know, your walk makes my heart race?
It's a shame that you're alone
Do you have a minute?
Oh, look, I don't bite
Give me a glance
I'm a certified funky redneck
Girl, stop
You don't have to act snobbish with me
Come on, jump up, hop
On the Jeep
You'll smell the scent of my six Magic Trees
Like Bersani, I'm a freak
I'm a redneck and I'll knock you down with my gaze
I'm trashy like Marini and Adriano Pappalardo
I'm the one who used to do wheelies with the Ciao
With the Squallor Arrapao t-shirt
The one who misses the saddle with fringes
The Arizona license plate and the Proma exhaust
And the Kiss and Bob Marley sticker
The scooter that makes noise like a Harley

I'm a pig, I'm a scoundrel
I rhyme down in the city
Without shame or regard
I'm a funky redneck
I'm a pig, sometimes crooked
I rhyme down in the city
But never short of words
Give me your heart baby, because I'm here

I bare my chest in the music hall
I'm not beautiful, but I have the physique du role
And I compete at the fair with the punching ball
Like Terence Hill used to do
I have Mickey Mouse's watch bought at the Autogrill
I wear it on my wrist, it's not Beverly Hills
The place where I live, my beauty
I'm the typical suburban redneck
Who turns up the car radio to the max
For me, the Garelli is a classic
Like the root wood interiors on a Ritmo cabrio
I like the gold cross necklace
On the t-shirt, Tony Manero style
The cigarette above the ear
The Zippo as a lighter
If we're in bed I stay naked, but with a sock
That's so hard core
But don't worry because I use DivorOdor

I'm a pig, I'm a scoundrel
I rhyme down in the city
Without shame or regard
I'm a funky redneck
I'm a pig, I'm a scoundrel
I rhyme down in the city
But never short of words
Give me your heart baby, because I'm here

I have women scattered all over Italy
I hit and run
But with each one I've shed a tear
I even cried with yours

I'm a funky redneck, the anti-yuppies
I'm disgusting like a cockroach to the preppies
But baby, I enchant you when I speak
Even if my rhyme is as trashy as Carlo Vanzina's movies
Funky like Pino D'Angiò though
Redneck like Massimo Ciavarro
I'm an evergreen
Like the curtains on the rear window with Marilyn drawn
Or Geen
And I've seen the punk era, the metalhead era
The dark era, the paninaro era
The era of the fake rich
The era of the fake poor
And still I'm here unchanged
Nothing has changed me
And it seems finally that my time has come
Girl, I have no competition with others
The redneck is always in vogue, because he's never in fashion

I'm a pig, I'm a scoundrel
I rhyme down in the city
Without shame or regard
I'm a funky redneck
I'm a pig, sometimes crooked
I rhyme down in the city
But never short of words
Give me your heart baby, because I'm here

I'm a pig, I'm a scoundrel
I rhyme down in the city
Without shame, without regard
I'm a funky redneck
I'm a pig, sometimes crooked
I rhyme down in the city
But never short of words
Open your heart baby, because I'm here

I'm a pig
Redneck

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