"Bottles" came light, "Bottles" got dead,
Mishaps now "bottles" does decay. he's shred.
A bit unstable 'round the heat.
He was old familia face.
Through the eye - case for case.

Hmmmm

We'll settle a debt, and settle it right,
May all depend upon your line of sight.
Us cheesers down at the ice plant,
In our Italian-ness we rant.

Stings on lame prey we know these ways,
Don't play as good mob, you got have good offense,
Keep sharp your knife, live a good life,
We lost Dutch long ago,
They'll lose weight, when starts the show,
Just can't keep it on ice after so much crime.

When they dismembered those strays bangin' out done that kill-age scene,
Engineered boosts, ledger packets, and fight crew teams,
Dropped a dime in the box sound the gong on that old Moe Greene,
Cold fear, knot tight, those neat Roman trick ten gauge fights

Bend the spaghetti then go pop "Euchre" Eddie,
He's the king out in Queens at the Palms.
Gliding around at the bar "Drop Down" like a rodeo clown,
"No Money's" sportin' a blinder,
Comin' back from a hit at old Cingue's [1] diner.
I never knew you could get any more from a knife,
Shirley. bendin' spaghetti will always be "No Money's wife.

Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-ohhh
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-ohhh

Then more spaghetti we're filled and we're ready we slumber 'tween seven and five,
Thus we incited a mannagge [2] we'd see like the fourth of July.
Everyone bled out like crazy,
Rendered back blow made much us dazy,
But ready to sever with sword those live bind to this life,
Oh, and there we were shavin' benders' spaghetti wise guys.

So we're on an escarpment with cheap vile culprits,
As we pray to our Saintlings from fears.
These pigs slaughter dead they brought with them dread,
They have slayed for a couple of beers.
They started the fight, and "No Money's" up tight,
Put them down for the count for light years.

Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-ohhh
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-ohhh

Oh they live with a style like cold ice their guile,
It's always a game with no end.
They had to outsource for more power of horse,
Who departed the mostest depends
It's "Our Thing" makes us mean, Italian cuisine,
Does just forever our back sides extend.

Whoa-oh, whoa-oh...

Bendin' Spaghetti, we've had it already they're outnumbered 'bout seven to five,
Shoot them high lay them low, we're soon endin' the show.
Gore the rest with our knives,
The hood went all hacked up with greasers.
The rest these hood crews were kicked into pieces.
Gone are days knew that our oath binds in ways made us wise,
Now all they know is about bendin' spaghetti.
Tu talamore! [3] 'cause we've had it already,
So here we are sav'rin' bendin' spaghetti wise guys.

Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-ohhh
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-ohhh
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-ohhh

Don't battle with Feds, Don't doddle in fights,
Whatever kind of hood your in tonight
Us cheesers down at the ice plant,
With our Italian-ness we rant.