The Gottis' Next Label: 'Not Guilty,' They Hope

Rappers started referencing lines from "The Godfather," "Goodfellas" and "Scarface." Snoop Dogg borrowed the "Godfather" font for his album, "Tha Doggfather." Jay-Z slipped a "Goodfellas"-quoting skit between the tracks of "In My Lifetime, Vol. 1." There's a rapper named Scarface, a group called the Three 6 Mafia. The Wu-Tang Clan sometimes calls itself the Wu-Gambinos. And on and on.

This is all in the realm of metaphor, typically. Rappers are drawn by the idea of danger, power and authority, plus the emphasis on family, riches and the no-snitch code of honor. Also, silly nicknames. The mob ethos, says Ro, has faded in popularity in recent years, eclipsed by the street-hustler image taking its style and iconography from movies like "Boyz n the Hood." Maybe it just went out of fashion, or perhaps somebody realized that no one in rap has any firsthand knowledge of mob life. It's all the Hollywood version.

"It's sort of pathetic," says Ro. "They watch too much television. The real mob is nothing to glorify, but rappers don't know anything about the scummy day-to-day business of being a mobster."

It was from television, in fact, that Irv Gotti learned about Murder Inc., the 1930s crime syndicate.

"A&E is running this thing called Gangster Week and they do this special on Murder Incorporated," he once told the Los Angeles Times. "I thought, 'I'm going to call my artists murderers, because they put out hits.' "

No one has accused Gotti of putting out the other kind of hit. In court this past week, however, testimony suggested he consorted with some genuine lowlifes. Among them the aforementioned credit-card con man, Jon Ragin.

Ragin for years had a lucrative business selling merchandise -- like flat-panel televisions -- that he and his underlings had purchased with credit cards made in his living room. When the cops knocked on his door to arrest Ragin in 2003, he hurriedly tossed a printer off a balcony, a rather lame attempt at damage control.

Ragin was on hand to testify about "Crime Partners," a straight-to-video movie that was co-written by McGriff and filmed on locations around Queens. The Gottis allegedly sank $65,000 into the film as investors, but the prosecution says the brothers merely helped McGriff hide his own contributions to the cost of the movie, in the event the IRS audited the production. (The Gottis wrote a check to McGriff's movie company, claim the feds, then were promptly paid back by McGriff.)

Unfortunately for the government, Gerald Shargel cross-examined Ragin, and torched the witness's credibility in under 45 minutes.

"You were a pimp, right?" Shargel asked. Indeed Ragin was.

"And you had your recruiters bring you 18-year-old women, didn't you?"

It took some prodding but eventually Ragin said yes to that question, too.

Frankly, none of what's been seen so far seems very promising for the government. Even before the defense mounts its case, the evidence against the Gottis sounds well shy of the slam-dunk a guilty verdict would require.

But whatever the outcome of this trial, the dangerous glamour of the mob isn't what it used to be. Even the attorneys for Junior Gotti spent a good portion of his racketeering trial over the summer claiming that the man's last name is a horrendous burden that he can't shake. Count on Irv and Chris to bring the name Lorenzo back if they beat this rap. The Gottis might walk, but "Gotti," it seems, is a goner.