Ustedes, idiotas, no podrían salir gateando de una bolsa de papel
Allo, I'm-a Giuseppe
I got-a something special-a for you, ready?
Uno, duo, tre, quatro!
When I was a boy just about the eighth-a grade
Mama used to say: "Don't stay out-a late with the bad-a boys
Always shoot-a pool, Giuseppe going to flunk-a school!"
Boy it make-a me sick all the t'ing I gotta do
I can't-a get-a no kicks always got to follow rules
Boy it make-a me sick just to make-a lousy bucks
Got to feel-a like a fool
And-a mama used to say all-a time:
What's-a matter you? Hey! Gotta no respect
What-a you t'ink you do? Why you look-a so sad?
It's-a not so bad, it's-a nice-a place
Ah shaddap-a you face!
That's-a my mama. I can remember!
Big accordion solo!
Ah-ha ! Play dat thing! Really nice, really nice!
Soon-a come-a day, gonna be a big-a star
Den I make-a T.V. shows and-a movies
Get-a myself a new car but still I be myself
I don't want-a to change a t'ing
Still a-dance and a-sing
I think about-a mama, and she used to say