Joe and Jada - “Skinny” Joey Merlino on Philly’s mob history, RICO cases, WILD prison stories & his LEGENDARY cheesesteaks

You know what it is, the Joe and Jada show; every episode’s a moment, and today we’ve got South Philly’s own—stand-up guy, hates rats, runs a fire cheesesteak spot, sharp fit, sharper code—make some noise for Joey Merlino.

Appreciate it, brothers. Good to be here.

Do people get shook around you because of your name and what they’ve read?

They see headlines and paint me like a monster, but if you’re my friend, you know I’m loyal and there’s nothing to fear.

Philly’s its own planet—loud, proud, a little nuts—and the internet made it worse with fake tough guys chasing views, calling people rats from behind a screen.

It’s clicks and clout; I don’t feed it because half of it’s lies and the other half is bait to pull me into their circus.

We usually avoid “former gangster tells all” shows because the web is full of tall tales; how do you feel about the docs on you?

Half-true is half-false; they skip the acquittals, mention the charges, and leave out that we beat the big ones while cooperators got caught lying.

Feels like prosecutors just want a trophy and will let shaky witnesses run if it lands the headline.

Guys who did their own dirt got deals by naming names—people with bodies walked while we had to expose their stories on the stand to survive.

Now rats get platforms like influencers; meanwhile, I was raised on a code—don’t talk, ask for a lawyer, and keep your mouth shut on First 48 and in pillow talk.

That’s the rule since day one; people trade freedom for a cigarette or to impress someone, and it ruins lives.

Solitary is built to break you; why do informants still act like they’re the same street guys on podcasts?

They bark online; if I answered like they do, I’d be back in a cell—some of them keep skating no matter how much harm they do.

I once refused to let a well-known cooperator’s daughter in my section at the club; the code still means something to me.

How hard was it to go straight when your name rings like that?

I walked into legit hustle—cheesesteaks, real business—and I’ve fought off four RICO rides; most folks don’t even know what RICO is, and I even saw a one-man RICO on a rapper, which is wild.

In my 2016 case there were dozens of co-defendants I never met; everyone pled, I went to trial, got a hung jury, and ended up with two years for a bet.

You ever have someone vanish mid-case and realize later he was wired up?

They’re career informants—paid, protected, and everywhere—bookmakers too; some crews never see a case because they’re feeding the same machine.

I won’t call anyone a rat without proof, but I’ve seen dudes eating with us every night who somehow missed every roundup; it nags you decades later.

Bottom line: if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime; what gets law enforcement excited isn’t you telling on enemies—it’s flipping on your closest people.

I twice faced the threat of death row off someone saying I told them to do it; hearsay like that can end you.

I caught a gun case as a kid trying to ride for a friend; my own guy blurted on me in court, but the stop was illegal and the case got tossed, which pushed me to clean up and chase rap.

You taking the cheesesteak brand beyond Philly?

Charleston is on deck and another high-traffic spot this summer; I want to franchise nationwide.

Picking the right corner is a sixth sense—knowing where money really moves even if it looks quiet to outsiders.

I like stadium energy and neighborhood flow; rich zip codes order for show, not for appetite.

These days people eat for the photo, then leave half the plate; same city has fentanyl and tranq turning blocks into zombie lanes.

It’s sad to see crack still around and new poisons worse; that scene in Kensington is unreal.

I even watched a CO who used to press me end up arrested for killing her husband; this life spins fast.

Some in that system are twisted; strip searches and mind games are routine.

Celebs can shape their world outside, but inside you’re stuck with people you’d never speak to on the street.

Lower security spots get flooded with child predators and cooperators, and they’re the most protected in the building.

I went to church every week inside and found out the prison pastor was locked up for a child crime; that flipped my stomach and showed me how upside down it is.

Before we pivot, quick banter—he’s deadly on sports picks and juggling haircuts like it’s a sport itself.

Two barbers in one day keeps me fresh; even a broke man feels rich after a cut.

You stay mixing it up with everybody, and I want to know why folks pile on you and not me—what’s driving that?

We split the same check and that bothers people; I keep it calm and back you, but let’s pivot—how are we feeling about the season and the Eagles?

The draft was wild—Philly took a swing on a rare athlete who barely played organized ball, but the upside is real; I still ride with AJ Brown, who racks up gains after the grab and frees DeVonta to cook, and I usually sprinkle an anytime touchdown on Brown.

What about the Process fallout and the load‑management mess; families spend big to see a star and then the guy sits right before tip—what do you even do?

Ben lost his way, but Tyrese Maxey turned into a true star who plays every night and empties the tank, which is exactly what the city respects.

Friends and even family hit me with outrageous asks—pay off massive debts and they will trickle a thousand a month forever; I have been burned, so my plan is to enjoy my money while I am here.

I talk loud but I back it up and take care of mine; real question, though—what is a fair time for a widow to move on, because there is never a perfect answer.

People move fast—honestly, around six months is common.

I get it, but I do not want another guy lounging in my house on my dime; leave a pile of cash and somebody else will be on your boat, in your car, living your life.

Early Super Bowl flyer, I like the Packers as a live long shot, and the Eagles will still be in the mix.

Shout to our big friend inside the Eagles who looks out for the kids and helps everybody—class act.

I rode with Brady because he always found a way, then I saw that locked‑in anger on the kid from Kansas City and knew he was next—greatness has a look you can feel.

Old‑school hoops felt rougher; with today’s calls, is the game softer or just different?

Analysts even say to rough up Wembanyama to slow him, but once he fills out it is San Antonio’s league for a stretch.

Do not sleep on Oklahoma City, and the kid still needs strength, but he is special.

Jokic putting up boards and dimes like that is unreal.

His help runs hot and cold, and that swings series.

It is a shooter’s league now—teams live from deep all game.

Haters keep coming, but they are starting to flip; we talk our talk on sports, culture, and Philly, and Joey’s stories tie it all together—that is how we do it.