Monday, June 25, 2012
The jig is up; yer nuttin’ but
a stinkin’, snitchin’ lug.
Ya think I’m headin' to da joint
cuz you can’t shut yer mug?
That shyster you been singin’ to
ain’t gonna save yer neck.
I’d cap ya right now fer two bits;
I’d even take a check.
Ya had to blab to some dumb broad.
(Lay off that giggle juice.)
Ya put the finger on me; now
I'm gonna cut ya loose.
It ain't healthy to rat me out.
I'll break ya, like Ma's dishes.
I’m seein’ youse in concrete shoes,
swimmin’ wit' da fishes.
So shut yer stupid yap, capisce?
They say that talk is cheap.
But squealin' ain't, so save yer breath