Lyrics:
There's an old Italian phrase
It's an old Italian craze
Every little bambina learns it the very first day
Ev'ry sweet Signorina
Says it the very
There's an old Italian phrase
It's an old Italian craze
Every little bambina
Says it the very first day
Every sweet Signorina
Says it the very
There's an old Italian phrase
It's an old Italian craze
Every little bambina
Says it the very first day
Every sweet Signorina
Says it the very
There's an old Italian phrase
It's an old Italian craze
Every little bambina learns it the very first day
Ev'ry sweet Signorina
Says it the very
of art?
Well in a Villa in a little old Italian town
Lives a girl whose beauty shames the rose
Many yearn to love her but their hopes all tumble down
There's an old Italian phrase
It's an old Italian craze
Every little bambina learns it the very first day
Ev'ry sweet Signorina
Says it the very
of art?
Well in a Villa in a little old Italian town
Lives a girl whose beauty shames the rose
Many yearn to love her but their hopes all tumble down
of art?
Well in a Villa in a little old Italian town
Lives a girl whose beauty shames the rose
Many yearn to love her but their hopes all tumble down
of art?
Well in a Villa in a little old Italian town
Lives a girl whose beauty shames the rose
Many yearn to love her but their hopes all tumble down
Crow's directing traffic with them cemetery blues,
With them peculiar-looking trousers, them old Italian shoes
And a wooden kimono that was all ready
real Mona Lisa
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art
Well in a villa in a little old Italian town
Lives a girl whose beauty shames the rose
like Tyronn Lue
Me and my soldiers we just out here mobbing like old Italians
Snatching your homie's necklace to rock it with your medallion
Over
and lonely, lovely work of art?
Well. in a villa, in a little old Italian town,
Lives a girl who's beauty shames the rose
Many yearn to love her but
There's a coffee shop in Edwardes street
Where old Italians rest their tired feet
Where Errol Flynn himself comes in
Desperate for a glass of gin
to the pedal
Lawyers really hate me cuz I never really settle
I’d fit right in to an old Italian ghetto
And I feel like magneto, i swear I got the meta
And you
together
Well a bitter old Italian in a black raincoat told me hell was real and hungry
But that God would show me mercy for all my gay thoughts cause in
We meet for lunch in the city
Same old Italian place
Reminds me of when I was little
Even though everything has changed
Ooohh
He tries to talk
to get on
My old Italian with the necklace and the gold rings
Nothing average they just wanna hate
On a young dude really getting it
Seven oh five that’s
And an old Italian man comes out of nowhere and just starts yelling at you
It's true, it happened to my uncle
Just ask him
He hasn't played bocce since
Not
Those good old Italian songs
What a day to be out and about on Clover Street
You stroll for a mile
And you stay for awhile
And you're crossing the street
of art?
Well, in a villa in a little old Italian town
Lives a girl whose beauty shames the rose
Many yearn to love her but their hopes all tumble down
Wanderin' around this little old Italian town
Digging up a piece of earth without a sound
And you're as happy as a pig in shit
With a smile full
saying, for every twenty wrongs a child does, ignore nineteen
There's an old Italian saying you fuck up once you lose two teeth!
More money more murder
the gold medallion
That hangs around a neck on a old italian
[Chorus]
Scram kid your new to me you bother (that's right its bumpy knuckles)
Cause I
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