This is an interesting question. On the one hand, what good is being a Don if you have to spend your life wearing ratty pajamas and bathrobe, talking to trees, pissing in the street, traveling in the trunks of cars, never going more than 50 miles from home? On the other hand, what good is being a Don if you have to spend your life in a Supermax?
Moral of story: Crime Doesn't Pay.
Ntra la porta tua lu sangu � sparsu, E nun me mporta si ce muoru accisu... E s'iddu muoru e vaju mparadisu Si nun ce truovo a ttia, mancu ce trasu.
