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CHOOCH TO GOOCH (THE 10 STEPS OF DISCO DANCIN')
BY BOBBY BRACIOLA
WRITTEN AND PRODUCED BY BOBBY BRACIOLA AND GUIDO FETTUCINE
MUSIC VIDEO DIRECTED BY DAVID BETTENCOURT PRODUCED BY BOBBY BRACIOLA
HEY, HOW U DOIN'? I'M GONNA SHOW YA HOW TO GO FROM A CHOOCH TO GOOCH IN TREE
MINUTES, AIN'T IT?!
THIS ONE GOES OUT TO ALL OF Y'ALL, WHO LONG FOR THE DAYS OF THE MIRROR BALL.
I'M GONNA SHOW YA WHAT IT TAKES TO SHAKE YOUR TUSH, GIRL. GRAB AN APPLE OFF DA
TREE AND TROW IT IN THE BUSHEL!
YOUS CAN VARIATE DIS ONE IF YOU CHOOSE. THIS IS HOW YOU KNOCK THE STRUNZ OFF YA
SHOES. IT'S CLASSIC DISCO, CAPISCE?!
THEN YOU REEL IN DA TUNA WHEN YOUR AT THE BEACH!
FOR MAXIMUM TAN, I HOPE YOU SHAVED. INTERLOCK YOUR FINGERS AND RIDE DA WAVES!
OH!! LOOK OUT FOR DAT SHWELL! IT'S TIME TO REACTIVATE YOUR GEL.
AWWWW FREAK OUT! IT AIN'T A TALL ORDER; DRY YOUR BACK OFF WITH A TOWEL
WHEN YOUR OUTTA DA WATER. OH YEAH! WE'RE HALFWAY THERE...FREESTYLE!!
CHORUS: WHEN YOU'RE IN THE MOOD FOR THE DISCO LIGHTS,
AND YOU FEEL THE GROOVE, IT'S A DISCO NIGHT.
EVERYBODY'S JUMPIN' AND THE BELLS ARE RINGIN',
IT'S THE 10 STEPS OF DISCO DANCIN', SWINGIN'!!
YOU'RE TOUGH. YOU AIN'T SOFT. MYAGI SAYS "WAX ON, WAX OFF". (TJ: WAX ON, WAX OFF)!
NOW YOU'RE READY TO TAKE ON CATO, SPAR WITH MY PAISAN PETER MANFREDO.
NUMBER 8 IS GREAT, YOU'RE GONNA DIG DA TASTE. TO MAKE YOUR OWN WINE YOU GOTTA
CRUSH DA GRAPES!
IT'S TIME TO ACT LIKE A REAL SPACCONE AND FIRE YOUR WEAPONS LIKE AL CAPONE!
I KNOW YOU'RE READY TA DO IT ALL AGAIN, BUT I GOT ONE MORE BEFORE WE END... IT'S
DISCO DANCE MOVE #10. YOU ANOINT YOUR PARTNER WIT YOUR SHWEAT, DO THE SPIN OUT,
AND THAT'S WHAT HOUSEROCKIN'S ALL ABOUT!!
CHORUS/VAMP
ARE YOU READY? ARE YOU READY? ARE YOU READY TA DO IT ALL AGAIN?
PARTY PEOPLE IN DA PLACE SAY "HOW U BEN?!" SAY "HOW U BEN?!"
GRAB AN APPLE OFF DA TREE AND TROW IT IN DA BUSHEL! REEL IN DA TUNA! RIDE THE
WAVES AT SCARBOROUGH! TIME TO REACTIVATE YOUR GEL! DRY YOUR BACK OFF WITH A
TOWEL!
WAX ON, WAX OFF! WAX ON, WAX OFF! SPAR WITH MY PAISAN PETER MANFREDO!
CRUSH DA GRAPES! AND FIRE YOUR WEAPONS LIKE AL CAPONE!
ANOINT YOUR PARTNER WIT YOUR SHWEAT, DO THE SPIN OUT.
AND THAT'S WHAT HOUSEROCKIN'S ALL ABOUT. AIN'T IT?!!!!
Everyone’s Italian on Christmas Eve
Written and performed by Bobby Braciola
Chorus: Rockin’ around the Christmas tree, with Bobby Braciola and his family,
it’s an experience you will not believe, because Everyone’s Italian on Christmas Eve!
You see a paesano’s home on Christmas Eve is something unique and not to be believed,
we party at Grandma’s fulfilling her wish, she’ll be kickin’ off the season with a table of fish.
We’re at the supermarket loadin’ up the cart, we got da shrimp, da schmelts, da baccala.
Back at the house they’re getting’ in the groove, the women are all shlavin’ they’re in bad moods!
But only until the shrimp cocktail’s here, then all my compare’s share the Christmas cheer!
Dinner lasts for hours, it’s getting’ late, I’m stuffed to the max, my usual trait.
The conversation turns to the annual debate, should we open our presents, or should we wait?
“Yo, every year it’s the same thing, how can we open ‘em if santa hasn’t been here yet? What are you, shtupet?
Chorus
After tree hours of carolin’ all is tame, time to settle in for an all night game,
of poler, hi-lo jak, Papa playing bridge, my brother steps off, to raid the fridge.
He comes back with snail salad, stuffin’ his face, Bobby wins again win a deuce, jack and ace.
Dice is the dealer shufflin’ fast as he can, Santa down the chimney sits in for a hand!
Albert’s got a straight, da room is a hush, but Santa takes the chips with a royal flush!
St. Nick’s so psyched about his pay, he invites Bobby B. to join him on his sleigh!
So into the night, up ‘n away, we make our rounds on Christmas day!
Chitown, L.A., and Miami, Federal Hill, North End and Little Italy, around the world,
but we’re home by tree, for lasagna and braciola with the family!
Bobby’s dressed in red, I’m lookin’ fresh and sleek, I get smiles, hugs and kisses, upon da cheek!
Itailian Christmas feasts are so unique ; and my appetite’s at an absolute peak!
The antipasto’s guaranteed to trow you for a loop, but the ultimate kicker is the holiday soup!
Eggs, little meatballs and escarole, it’s the personal favorite of Bobby Braciola!
Chorus.
Checkin’ out ball games upon da screen, I got 2-tree hundret, on New Orleans,
but the fanuch’ and espresso have affected my mind, the whole family’s out cold before halftime!
Up at eleven for wandi and tea, and after nap liqueur and a zeppole, the family’s decked out,
we’re a picture of class, as we stroll in together for midnight Mass.
After Church I break to round up my Krewe, all the paesans in the Posse Fazool.
We’re in the Christmas spirit feelin’ pretty jewel, I check my watch, it’s quarter of 2!
So the house starts rockin’ at a different pace, downstairs we’re jammin’ turnin’ up da bass!
My brother sneaks upstairs for a casual taste, of a ricotta cannoli and the zuppa inglese.
Cause we’re rockin’ around, the Christmas tree with my Posse Fazool and my family,
so remember and listen up to Bobby B., cause Everyone’s Italian on Christmas Eve!!
Spaccone
Written and performed by Bobby Braciola
I think it’s about time, to turn it out, I’m gonna show you what house rockin’s really about, ain’t it?
I’m gonna tell you a little story about me, as I educate yous on my pedigree,
I’m a handsome paesan and I got da soul, my family and krewe, they call me Bobby Braciola!
They call me a ginzo and a cugine, ‘cause I keep my hair short but my cars always clean.
I know how to jam, I know I look hot, I get all kinda girls checkin’ out my IROC,
I’ll make it nice and smiple and I’ll say it plain, the rhymes about dancin’ chek out my refrain…
Chorus:
I don’t talk too much, I’m no chiachirone, I know how to dance, I ain’t a strombolone, I got tons of class, I’m no cafone, my name is Bobby Braciola, and I’m a Big Spaccone!
You see, a Spaccone’s a guy who trows around his cake, he spends tree times more, than he’ll ever make,
he’s always psyched and ready for a party train, you could tow a Lincoln Towncar with his rope chain!
Out every night puttin’ on da charm, every club he hits, he orders Dom!
He grabs his private table to pop da cork, he ain’t got the maloch’ , he’s chillin’ in New York!
On the dance floor he can shake his thing, he goes nowhere without his pinky ring!
I’m that type of guy, my gear is always tight, so I’ll run down an average Friday night;
I get wit my bookie, I place my bet, he goes “Bobby you ben drinkin’, let me schmell your bret?”
I put five large on da Celts, and tree on da Knicks, it’s time to head downtown, I’m ready to mix!
I get behind the twelve, I turn up the bass, I shock the MIC and I rock da place!
I got a pal named Albert, a real cafone, he took a shot of my cologne,
He said “Bobby it’s the best that I tasted yet!!” We looked at ‘em and said,
“Don’t you die from dat shit?!”
My mentors are Doug E., Eric B., and Icer (T), but they don’t got da brogue like me and Dice.
You gotta sound and act like you’re from da North End; so party people pay attention, as I say again…
Chorus
You know, I think the new street talk’s a little absurd, I’m having trouble wit my new vocabulary words; I mean my provolone’s fresh, def is my grandmother, the only thing dope about me is my brother!
I don’t play wit my fly, I’m not that type, and I love Public Enemy, but I believe da hype!
I pump iron at da gym to improve my bod, ‘cause I’m a Spaccone, I ain’t a stunato!!
I got ‘scarole in my soup, I got ‘scarole in my pocket, King Swing creates a beat, Chopmaster rocks it!
So don’t forget da Paesano’s got rhythm and soul who gets on the dance floor and takes control,
adorns his body wit girls and gold, on the microphone it’s Bobby Braciola!!
“I’m not internationally known…” but I’m known to be a Big Spaccone!!
First Paseano in The New World -(Christopher columbus)
Written and performed by Bobby Braciola
This Spaccone’s here to stop your guessin’, time to give all of yous a history lesson!
The events of the rhyme, they all are true,
Let’s go back to 1492, when all of Europe, tried to dis an Italian-born sailor,
whose name was Christopher Columbus, who proved, that the world was round,
500 years later, we’re here getting’ down!
For the ‘scarole he went to Queen Isablla, she hooked him up like a real Fratella,
Chris got the scratch, he decided to break, y’know his end was 1/10th of the take.
He named the ships after girls, and set them in motion, headed due west in the Atlantic Ocean.
It’s a serious page outta history, take a fantastic voyage with Bobby B!!
Chorus:
And give a “Chin Don!” to this historical Krewe, celebrate in 1492, the tree seaworthy ships,
the tree beautiful girls, and The First Paesan, in The New World!!
Break open your history book, it’s time to learn G., about Christopher Columbus’s fantastic journey,
With the Nina, the Pinta, 300 pounds of baccala, a vat of Sangria
He had no shower to keep himself clean, just soap and water and his little mopine.
The Santa Maria was Christoforo’s ship, 39 men, on the serious tip.
But when it came to party, my brothers were hip, cold rock the ship, check out the back flip!
All of Europe thought homeboy was crazed, but he completed the journey in 33 days,
They thought it was the Orient, no San Salvador. Then they did the Ed Lover’ like it was a dance floor.
If Chris were here now, I’m sure he’d smile, we’re tellin’ his story cold hip-hop style.
No matter the groove, the message is clear, I’m takin’ you back 500 years!
Chours.
And give a “Chin Don!” to this historical Krewe, celebrate in 1992, the tree seaworthy ships,
the tree beautiful girls, and The First Paesan, in The New World!!
He was larger than average with a pointed nose, turned grey at 33, oh, that’s how it goes,
knowledge of the wind, stars is what he had,
And he had a bad temper, don’t make him mad!
Mangiato at the feast, every night, Christopher, he had a huge appetite,
like when the chef hooked a flounder, he knew he’d be sorry,
Chris threw it back cause he wanted Calimari!
Four journeys to the “Enchanted Coast”, each one ended with a champagne toast,
silver and gold so he could dress like Gucci, hired mapmaker, Amerigo Vespucci!
Chris deserves the credit, world let’s show it, tip your glass, move your body, pop the cork on da Moet!
His discovery provides the words of this poet, changed the course of history, as we know it.
So, as I chill, mix the Dom, a plate of melanzan, this rhyme goes out to da Original Dom.
who taught Bobby Braciola about polish and charm, Christopher Columbus, You’re a real Paesan!
Chorus.
Buona Fortuna, Baby!
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