By the time the fence takes his cut, it's small potatoes. We're breakin' our balls for peanuts.

Not for nothing, but the guys don't have two nickels to rub together. What are we doin' here, policy slips? It's bullshit.

[suddenly ranting]

All you's do, you cry like babies all day long, you bite my ass around the clock. If I'm not in here havin' my famous espresso with Tony Ducks by ten, I'm back by noon to check the numbers. But I'm the one that goes down to Mulberry to check it out with Mr. Neil, right? I'm the one that goes to Staten Island to pay respect to that lay-down cazzo Paulie. And then I I gotta drink bitter coffee, 'cause his spic maid cannot even run a ****in' espresso machine. I gotta sit with that zombie Bilotti, doberman my ass!
[John stands up] ]

I gotta go out to the island now to talk to Bobby about stolen watches? Are you ****in' kiddin' me? You know I could've been a meter maid? I could've worked for U-P-****-S, and made more ****in' money! Where the **** you come cryin' to me about empty pockets? Why don't you just say what you want? You want a piece of DiB's porn? You want a piece of Sammy's construction? What do you want - demolition, cement, or garbage, which? You want trucks, meat, fish, garments? SO THE **** DO I!