ZONDA Lyrics in English Lazza

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song ZONDA by Lazza from Italian to English.
These lyrics have verified word for word translations. Click any lyric word to see the translation and hear the pronunciation!
Shoutout 808 Apple (uh)
Grr-paw
Okay, Zzala
(Yo, lil' bih, it's NKO on beat) Hey
No pain, no gain
They want a bounty on my head like the far west
You have spoken a lot, here not even God knows how much I would like
Dig your grave, grave
Mom I'm on the air, wave
Not even a shadow of you, shadow
Okay, okay
Hold on your belt and feel like you're doing a crash test
At two hundred hours with the headlights off I touch the guard-rail
Leave me the sum, sum
What do I count, count
All in on a Zonda, Zonda
New my belt, new whip, fra', new Patek (new Patek)
We're in space like Star Trek if I press Start rec
I have the flow of a bomb, bomb, you don't need to say it
I run on a Zonda, Zonda Pagani, Ludovica
'Sti rapper goldfinger, finger
They are missed types
Catechization of sluts with filler, filler
I close with two sends
Give these golddigers a prize, digger
To remake the chiappe, chiappe
Who thought about how to season them, tell them
I would like you to introduce yourself
Okay, fra', I want a tax-free life
As if it cost me less
I'm leaving the club with the Cachet
In the passenger seat
I pretended I cared
I speak little between 'but if I have to
I run and fuck the drive shaft
It seems that the brake was not going
No pain, no gain
They want a bounty on my head like the far west
You have spoken a lot, here not even God knows how much I would like
Dig your grave, grave
Mom I'm on the air, wave
Not even a shadow of you, shadow
Okay, okay
Hold on your belt and feel like you're doing a crash test
At two hundred hours with the headlights off I touch the guard-rail
Leave me the sum, sum
What do I count, count
All in on a Zonda, Zonda
Ass on a Zonda, Zonda, will escape shortly thereafter
It looks like the party of Donda, Donda, everything catching fire
Either you take blame, blame or, fra', don't get up at all
Flow looks like London, London, but it's Piazzale Cuoco
Okay, Zzala between pulling the strings
I laugh at what you want to do to me
Also known as first in Fimi
You, fra', instead are first infamous
No compared to 'these four fools'
Not even to those who are satisfied with
A nice contract with four zeros
And a few doses of Fentanyl
Fra', I'll end up in a morgue
If people don't scream anymore
At yours there is half oratory
At mine there was half a south curve
I was already one of the real ones before that blue tick
The conscience is for months, that around a puttantour
No pain, no gain
They want a bounty on my head like the far west
You have spoken a lot, here not even God knows how much I would like
Dig your grave, grave
Mom I'm on the air, wave
Not even a shadow of you, shadow
Okay, okay
Hold on your belt and feel like you're doing a crash test
At two hundred hours with the headlights off I touch the guard-rail
Leave me the sum, sum
What do I count, count
All in on a Zonda, Zonda
Yo, lil' bih, it's NKO on beat
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Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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ZondaZonda (a type of car)

Zonda refers to the Pagani Zonda, an Italian high-performance sports car. It's a very specific and luxurious car model, making it an interesting and unique word choice for a song.

Lazza repeatedly mentions the Zonda throughout the song, using it as a symbol of speed, wealth, and success. For example, he raps, "Corro su una Zonda, Zonda Pagani, Ludovica" (I'm racing on a Zonda, Zonda Pagani, Ludovica), emphasizing his fast-paced lifestyle and achievements.

ZONDA is Lazza driving flat out, and using the car as a way to talk about his own career. The Pagani Zonda is the reward he bet everything on ("all in su una Zonda"), and it is also how the whole track feels: two hundred an hour with the headlights off, brushing the guard-rail, betting that nothing goes wrong.

Underneath the speed there is a lot of settling of scores. People have talked about him, so he answers by digging their grave and telling his mother he is on air. He measures himself against rappers he sees as decorated rather than real: fingers full of rings, fillers in their faces, gold diggers who want to redo their looks, and contracts with four zeros that he refuses to be grateful for.

The last verse is the most honest part. He says he will end up in a morgue if people stop shouting his name, that a rival's show draws half an oratory while his drew half a football terrace, and that he was already one of the real ones before the blue tick arrived. The bravado and the fear of being forgotten sit in the same lines.

For learners, this song is a good place to hear fast, modern Milanese rap: short punchy sentences, doubled words at the end of a line for emphasis ("tomba, tomba", "onda, onda"), and everyday slang like "fra'" for brother.

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