Gangsters are always fascinated by pretty women. They always want to have a flashy one holding onto their arms while walking into a club with their boys as in the movies. Some will even go overboard to get the one of their dreams even if their empire crumbles to the ground.

He was the king pin on the Upper East Side, in style and always mild

His boy at his side he would slide by with a smile like an evening breeze

Flashy coats, shining rings, leathered shoes, and a sting of other things

He was the man of the hour wheeling all of the power from his tower

They sent her to get him, told her to use anything, even a ring or bling

She dressed like Susie Que, fancy shoes with heels as high and tight

Walked like Nancy Wong on a bubbling fashion show, she went on the go

Hips swinging, head high, eyes targeting her prey-tigress on the prowl

So sweet, they met it was neat, he wore pants with pleats, breasted suit

Fancy black and white shoes on his feet; she made his say “please!” twice

Whispered and he jittered; his boys backed their coats, he cleared his throat

They were alone, after what they wanted, hot on each other tails-he sighed

They both had a mission, he was out for a dame to add to his game-a moll

Even thought of her as a doll; he was hooked around his neck with a crook,

Spilled the bean for her jeans; she was mean, nothing he had ever scene

With the day done he had no gun, could not run, it was fun, he was won!

His boys were mad, their boss was had, how could he ’cause he was bad?

The moll was such a sweet gal; they still see her as a doll, but not for a pal

She was like the widowed spider, jedi of love; Mise-en-scene lady still shady

His time now done, she had come, still  under her thumb-they had such fun!