I’ll tell ya my story if ya tink it’ll trill ya

Don’t ask me my name or I might hafta kill ya

I’m from da Big Apple… can’t go home no more

Got awla dem wise guys dere ticked-off an’ sore

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! I wound up in da Tombs

So ta save my own ting… eh I started ta sing

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! Bada Bing! Bada Boom!

Bada Bing! Bada Bang! Bada Boom!

Snitched on Pizza-Face Paulie… his mug fulla zits

Dem goombahs dey use him for contractin’ hits

He shot Sal da Salami… capped Charlie Ciabatta

Snuffed Louie Linguini… shanked Frankie Frittata

Squealed on Tony Scoungili… his nose like da Spinx

His teet are half-rotten… dis guy really stinks

He makes book on dead horses… buys hot ice and pearls

Plants stiffs on golf courses… dates guys dressed like girls

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! Now dere up in da Tombs

Hadda save my own skin so I turned the bums in

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! Bada Bing! Bada Boom!

Bada Bing! Bada Bang! Bada Boom!

Fingered Carmine da Cucumber… Jimmy da Geek

Stooled on Sneaky Pasquale an’ Philly da Freak

I sung like a canary… finked on a bunch more

An’ den when I finished… dey unlocked da door

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! I waltzed outta da Tombs

Gotta new name an’ face from da Feds on my case

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! Bada Bing! Bada Boom!

Bada Bing! Bada Bang! Bada Boom!

But dee enda my story ain’t no sweet confection

I’m stuck in da boondocks in witness protection

I got no kinda life here… dere’s no more to say

'Cep keep your nose clean kids… cuz crime sure don’t pay

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! Don’t wind up in da Tombs

Don’t be livin’ like me or you’ll nevva be free

Bada Bing! Bada Boom! Bada Bing! Bada Boom!

Bada Bing! Bada Bang! Bada Boom!

For my friend, Fred Travalena (1942-2009)