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THE BALLAD OF DUTCH SCHULTZ
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Now in Brooklyn's twisting streets, where times are always tough,
Where most men have but little or only half enough,
There's just one clever chap can always beat this rap,
He's the guy that makes a living dealing stuff.
But if you ask about him then you're met with one impulse
That silence is the ticket or there may be bad results.
And the name they spoke with fear, where none could overhear,
Was the king of all the dealers, the guy they call Dutch Schultz.
A shadowy army waited, or moved at his command,
And no one cared to cross him or risk his heavy hand.
For well they knew this stud would never shrink from blood
And talking to the Man, well he would not understand!
But no secret lasts forever when money is the bait
And sometimes people talk when fear is less than hate.
By the enemies he'd made the word had been relayed
"This cat is dealin' heavy and he only deals in weight!"
Well a curse on those who break the law, but a blessing on those who inform,
For now we knew our target and now was his taking sworn.
For he'd hurt the Narco pride -- too long had we been defied --
Too long had we followed a phantom, but now the trail was warm!
But Schultz was quick and crafty, he knew his way in the street,
He sold us an ounce of 'pure', we found the stuff was 'beat',
Whenever he tapped his stash, whenever he banked his cash,
Whenever he passed a package, we were just too late for the meet.
We were watching every hangout, we were covering every bar,
With some of us following close while others stood afar,
But tho' a tap was on his phone, tho' all his friends were known,
Tho' an army was out to get him, still Schultz was winning the war!
But at last we got the rumble that Dutch was cutting a pound,
And where the hell was Narco when a deal like this went down?
For our man had copped a 'key' in a way we didn't see
And the bundle men were waiting to spread the stuff around.
With shotguns at the ready we crept up to his door
With a warrant in our hands that was signed an hour before.
For we'd gotten a judge from bed -- shocking, the things he said --
And the only noise was breathing and the creaking of the floor.
We went right through that door -- they needed a better lock --
And they didn't draw their guns, so sudden was the shock.
With a shotgun in your face you will not play your ace
Against the kind of caller who doesn't even knock.
We got 'em good and straight and so we thought we'd try
To turn our man around and use him for a spy.
The court would make a deal but first he must reveal
The name of his connection and the source of his supply.
This is what we asked him; the answers we still lack.
We weren't too astonished, we didn't think he'd crack.
For although a prison cell isn't living very well,
He thought he'd like it better than a bullet in the back.
Is that the end of the story? Did you hear that telephone ring?
It was one of our best informants, he had some news to bring.
The day that Dutch was busted, a kilo was entrusted
To another clever fellow who's now doing Dutch's thing!
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