Neck is bloody but he is still ready
His lungs are heavy but he is still ready
Lungs sounding like a whistle at halftime
But he still ready to spit fire next to the greatest for he is always ready
Blood dripping from his neck like Dracula himself took a taste
Blood is spilling from these gashes be it don't matter for he is always ready
For the what is next to matter how high the foe may be it is all good
For this little Italian in the hood