Verse 1
Ey yo, it’s Sunday mornin’, Nonna’s yellin’ loud,
Coffee on the stove, whole block smells proud.
Bread on the table, prosciutt’ on the plate,
But everybody knows what’s gonna seal the fate—
Pre-Chorus
Fuggedabout the eggs, fuggedabout the rule,
If it ain’t on the table, where’s the—
Chorus
🎶 GABAGOOL!
Cut it thin, cut it cool,
From the Bronx to Bay Ridge, yeah we breakin’ the rules!
GABAGOOL!
You don’t eat? You a fool,
With the mutz and the bread, it’s the Italian fuel! 🎶
Verse 2
Uncle Tony’s talkin’ loud, hands all in the air,
“Eh! This ain’t gabagool, what is this, underwear?”
Pauly says, “Relax, I got it from my guy,”
Wrapped in brown paper, best deal money buy.
Pre-Chorus
Little olive oil, little cracked black pep,
You take one bite, you need a nap, capisce yet?
Chorus
🎶 GABAGOOL!
Straight from Napoli school,
Even Mickey Blue Eyes would approve of the move!
GABAGOOL!
Ey, it’s sacred, it’s true,
Say it wrong one time, Nonna disown you! 🎶
Bridge
Ay! 🤌
Say it slow…
Gaba—
(Crowd) GOOOOL!
Say it loud for the cousins in the back!
Verse 3
At the deli on the corner, guy behind the glass,
Calls you “boss” or “chief” — that’s pure class.
“Whaddaya havin’?” — you already know,
Point at the counter like, “Gimme the goooool.”
Break
Mozzarella stretchin’, bread a little hard,
Wine in a cup like we classy in the yard.
Final Chorus
🎶 GABAGOOL!
New York national jewel,
If you don’t like it, buddy—eh, that’s you!
GABAGOOL!
From the block to the stool,
It ain’t just food, it’s a family rule! 🎶
Outro
Now eat.
Don’t talk.
You’re too skinny anyway. 🤌🍷