Vito took a boat,
Got out before he's whacked.
Don Ciccio so pissed,
He don't cut no slack.

Left Corleone far,
'Board the "Des Moines Star", New York next stop.
The mob so tough,
With scabs and scandal ripe to pop.
He's no shy clown,
Vito talked the money down,
Took his toll,
Next day one more mob guy gets it.
One less Don so he's rid it.

One less they owed.

Vito, whoa-oh-oh-oh...
Fredo and Sonny, Mike ran the show,
Fredo be latent when his mother go.
Vito, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh...
Get dead, cross the mob and you'll get it,
One head shot an' fuh-get it.
Turf war, soon explode.

Vito he's runnin'
Makin' great big funds in stacks of bank notes.
Sayin', "snow in lines won't go it",
Drugs he won't promote.
Always makin' with the refined,
Gettin' out a quart of wine, Cuban's to smoke.
Contract one more hit to get through it,
The point is just don't do it,
One more that gets blowed.

Vito, whoa-oh-oh-oh...
He's got the money, he runs the show,
Vito's negatin' each and ev'ry foe.
Vito, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh...
Runs the mob; he can't quit it,
Those who plot will so get it,
Gun war is their code.

[Instrumental Interlude]

Vito, whoa-oh-oh-oh...
Fredo and Sonny, Mike stole the show.
Fredo gets latent, when his mother goes,
Vito, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh...

[Fade]