Il mio lato peggiore Lyrics – Luchè

Il mio lato peggiore Lyrics Meaning

[Intro]
Just a vibe-setting shoutout, nothing too deep.

[Strofa 1]
He starts by showing how desired and influential he is—someone even got his initials tattooed. The double C on sunglasses hints at luxury, like Chanel. He compares himself to an elevator, saying he helps social climbers rise. His values aren’t traditional; they revolve around things people often call sins. He enjoys the smell of a new Porsche and casually books a table in New York, showing off wealth and freedom. He talks about going to battle with loyalty, but while the other person paid the price, he paid for the funeral—showing power and responsibility.

Then, he mentions buying a villa in Sardinia and putting a red button on his desk—possibly a symbol of control or influence. He runs through the blocks like a hero and doesn’t see others’ success because he’s wearing expensive pata negra shades—basically saying he’s above them. He doesn’t trust what he hears or even half of what he sees. If he sleeps with someone twice, it’s only because she has both s*x appeal and a good body.

He carries a gun, has money as his Bible, and sees stadiums as his holy place. He’s had so many hit songs he could outdo a DJ. His tattoos set trends, and his tracksuit is his own brand, so he’s both stylish and self-made. He points out the shady life around him, like crack smells and people who’d ditch you for a tiny bit more money. He doesn’t hang out in trendy places like Navigli, but people try to look like him. He “screws the scene” but doesn’t see anyone as his successor. With countless goals and a ton of cash, he’s so rich that if someone disses him, he could just buy their music rights.

[Ritornello]
He was born a good guy, but life turned him into a monster. He’ll cut you off cold, like snatching a watch off your wrist. He greets betrayal with sarcasm—like giving Judas a kiss. People haven’t even seen how dark he can really get. He’s always out there, smiling like everything’s fine. He flexes by casually giving a luxury car to an unlicensed valet. And even in the studio, during wild moments, he’s still working. His worst side is still hidden from the world.

[Strofa 2]
He’s claiming to be the best of both worlds—real and successful, not fake. He compares himself to Kendrick in depth and to Drake in how much hate he gets, showing he’s a strong mix of both. He likes his food fancy, and sees himself as a kind of savior for wild, bold women—like his own version of Noah’s Ark. He calls out how some women take everything but aren’t called thieves, and says he shouldn’t treat them like he would treat his mother.

He wants a woman who can tell real crime stories, someone interesting and deep. He’s everywhere, like Amazon Prime, meaning he’s accessible and widespread. While the woman he’s talking about might have a lot of past partners, he only sticks close to his bodyguard. He throws in a scene of a sudden U-turn by the sea, maybe hinting at dramatic moments. He takes pride in being Neapolitan with North African roots, saying racism doesn’t affect him.

He sees himself as born to rebel and hopes that if someone ever kills him, they’ll do it to his face, without hiding. He talks about death a lot—not out of fear, but because he’s always ahead. He doesn’t care about being mainstream. The only way to “own” him is to kill him. He loves how success makes his enemies suffer while he keeps winning without needing them. Even though his life’s intense and chaotic, he’s never done drügs. He gave his mom a private jet after she missed a flight. He jokes that a blue checkmark should be his next tattoo because, in the streets, he’s already verified.

[Ritornello]
He repeats the idea that he started out kind but became someone darker because of what life threw at him. He has no problem cutting people off suddenly. Even when he sees betrayal, he acts with a twisted sort of grace. He keeps a smile in public, gives out big tips like it’s nothing, and keeps grinding—even in the middle of chaos. Still, the world hasn’t seen just how dark he can get.

[Outro: Lele Adani]
This part steps back from the tough talk and gets philosophical. It’s saying that people suffer because they take life too seriously, when maybe we weren’t supposed to. Life is really just about being alive and enjoying the moment. But people are always rushing, trying to build something “bigger” or find meaning in everything. The speaker compares that search to trying to bite your own teeth—it’s pointless. Real peace comes from fully diving into the now, and instead of calling it “work,” we should just realize it’s all a game.