Italianhippie.exe

[Verse 1] Italianhippie, forty-three cat hair on the hoodie, that’s the key Anime queue, controller in hand rolling up wisdom, one more gram He reads the world like patch notes do checks every build, every perk, every clue His rig is a shrine, his desk a zone but today that chair might not be home [Pre-Chorus] The sky says load, the clock says now human brain, machine somehow He squints at the port, says “hold my fate” too many worlds at the launch-day gate [Chorus] Italianhippie.exe Which universe for me? Italianhippie.exe Too many worlds to see Fallout? WoW? Dune? Palworld? Elder Scrolls? Starfield? Man, I’m stuck in a swirl [Verse 2] He wants one save file, not twelve tabs deep one tiny life, no time to sleep Will his cat spawn in with extra lives? Or judge him hard from pixel skies? And the weed thing hits like a system check Can he spark a thought with a chrome-cig neck? Do clouds still float when the body’s gone? Or is “smoke break” just a login song? [Pre-Chorus] Brain goes zip, then scan, then zip soul in a server, hardware trip He laughs like “damn, that’s a crazy phase” then freezes hard at the game-select maze [Chorus] Italianhippie.exe Which universe for me? Italianhippie.exe Too many worlds to see Fallout? WoW? Dune? Palworld? Elder Scrolls? Starfield? Man, I’m stuck in a swirl [Bridge] If the cat can come, that’s the dream little fur glitch in a moonlit stream If not, he’ll code one from scratch tonight with nine lives, claws, and righteous spite He checks the terms, the tech, the fine print “Do I get lag? Do I age? Do I still get mint?” The machine just blinks, says “please proceed” and opens a menu shaped like need [Final Chorus] Italianhippie.exe Which universe for me? Italianhippie.exe I can’t pick, let me be Fallout? WoW? Dune? Palworld? Elder Scrolls? Starfield? Man, I’m stuck in a swirl Italianhippie.exe Cat in the cloud with me Italianhippie.exe Now pass the weed, digitally