Franky was a mook from the block we used to live on The wanna be gangster; The wanna be dapper Don, Don John on The wall, I said: I'm your biggest fan Next to my little brother Paul. He losing his grip, man, like Pesci, he'd flip And you talk to his brother he says he Always planned this trip He wasn't oky-dokie running around like Don Quixote, trying to free a man he Didn't even know B. He had the roots and he bought the suits And the boys didn't like him to tell you the truth He had \"J.G.\" on his pinky ring and he Lied about doin' some time up in sing-sing Flipped one fine summer afternoon He told his brother Paulie, something had to be done soon. He took Paulie and a couple of boys and jacked the Coup de Ville to Illinois.
La-di da-di, free John Gotti La-di da-di, la-di La-di da-di, free John Gotti The King of New York, man, The King of New York (2x)
He got a clipper from a stripper, he met at a club Two sticks of dynamite and a .38 Snub He went see the Don, without an invitation Stood outside the gate with his three man demonstartion They were waving picket signs, the C.O. saw a nine; And only Paulie go away with the skin on his behind. Back in the borough the cops are acting Thorough; they raided Franky's room That's when they saw his bureau; upon it was a note, With a rhyme that was dope, about How he was breaking John out and how he couldn't cope. It said, \"I don't fly coach, never save the roach, The King of New York\". (2x) \"I never fly coach, never save the roach, The King of New York\".
La-di da-di, free John Gotti La-di da-di, la-di La-di da-di, free John Gotti The King of New York, man, The King of New York (4x)