I been bumpin frank Sinatra

I been chillin with these mobsters

Perfect Italian girl put the parmesan upon the pasta

We had  white sauce on the angel hair

We were sipping on the pinot

Her hair was black as mine,

but her skin look like a kilo

Thighs look like a hundred grand

Eyes green like a c- note

Liquid nitrogen in her veins  

The tongue game ****** she wrote

She whispers fortunes in my ear

While tracing plans upon my skin

Lead me to a life of sin

Then gave the roulette a gentle spin.

I never gave her a wedding ring  

I proposed to her with the shell

wedding dress was made by Prada

The  coloration red as hell

Showin fangs in a crooked smile that she hid behind her veil

Death upon her breath, it turned the atmosphere stale

Unholy matrimony pastor trying to hide his thorns

Ring bearer bared his fangs

flower girl throwing thorns

Bridemaids holding bouquets made  of wilted lillies

She drove a knife through my heart and said

“ baby do you feel me?”