She was an italian number
I mean quite a wonder
A belladonna to say the least
Met her at a restaurant
As a waitress
She coulda been famous
She took my order wit a smile
If looks can k** a body be found
She spoke broken english
I love the way it sounds
My mind & soul goin round & round
When she came back tipped her a 100
And wrote my number down
Maybe im comin off to strong
Am i wrong?
But shes a work of art like Michelangelo & Da Vinci
And her not bein mine, you had to convince me
She said from that 100
She takes 50
And her shift is done in a few minutes
I told her "Take ya time."
Goin "Yes!" in my mind
Until I seen this broodish n***a
That put a shiver down my spine
Shook it off
He might be the boss (f** em)
She came out; hair out
I said "sorry again, what's your name?"
She said "Gianna Magnarocci."
That's when she told me that broodish n***a was her father
He owned the restaurant
Im like sh**
He's the father, with him I didn't want to bother
(Damn he might be Mafia)
But I was lost in her
A brunette wit a green apple eyes
She was the apple of my eye like the song
B4 long, we started datin
It was tru matchmakin
And gettin along wit the families was dedication
Her, I was poking without the father knowin
She was catholic, around her neck a cross & carried rosaries
And prayed to the virgin Mary at ma**
Got me a good girl at last
Cookin recipes like Polenta & Zeppoles
For dessert Tiramisu
I loved her
Even the times she made me late
Us bein together had to be fate
With eachothers dilemmas we can relate
Even tho times we debate
She always was positive
Always went above and beyond
So I had to take it to infinity...
That's how its been between men & women for centuries
They say where your heart is, your treasure is
Regardless when it comes intimacy shes an artist
My love theme from Spartacus
No proxy..thanks to Gianna Magnarocci