Alright, here’s a hardcore gangster-style version for Pizzaguy — still cool, still handsome, but with that don’t-mess-with-me energy:
[Verse 1]
Yo, it’s Pizzaguy, pullin’ up in blacked-out rides,
Stone cold stare, got the city terrified.
Oven on blast, heat like my temper,
You step to the boss, you won’t make it to December.
Hands clean but the dough dirty, stackin’ racks,
Crust cut sharp like I’m slicin' through packs.
No cap, I deliver like a mob hit,
Box in the trunk—ain’t pizza if it’s not lit.
[Hook]
Yeah, I roll deep with the flame in my eyes,
Slice in my hand, I don’t deal with no lies.
Respect the name or catch that reply,
Streets know the legend — they call me Pizzaguy.
[Verse 2]
Gold chains hang like pepperoni on the neck,
Enemies fold when I pull up to collect.
Straight from the block where the dough gets flipped,
Now I run the game, every pie, every zip.
Talk slick? That’s a no-go, senpai,
I’ll turn your whole crew into delivery jam.
Got sauce like a kingpin, crust like a throne,
And I built this empire straight out the zone.
Let me know if you want a version with a beat, audio vibe, or edited for performance — I got you.
