King of New York

You don't need money when you're famous

They gives you whatever you want

Gratis (Such as?)

A pair of new shoes with matching laces

Permanent box at the Sheepshead races

Pastrami on rye with a sour pickle

My personal puss on a wooden nickel

Look at me, I'm the King of New York

Suddenly, I'm respectable

Staring right at you, lousy with stature

Nobbing with all the muckety-mucks

I'm blowing my dough and going deluxe

And there I'll be, ain't I pretty?

It's my city, I'm the King of New York

A solid gold watch with a chain to twirl it

My very own bed and an indoor terlit

A barbershop haircut that cost a quarter

Regular beat for a star reporter

Amscray, punk, she's the King of New York

Who'd have thunk, I'm the King of New York?

We were sunk, pale and pitiful

Bunch of wet noodles, Pulitzer's poodles

Almost about to drown in the drink

When she fished us out, and drowned us in ink

So let's get drunk (Yeah)

Not with liquor, fame works quicker

When you're King of New York

I gotta be either dead or dreaming

'Cause look at that pape with my face beaming

Tomorrow they may wrap fishes in it

But I was a star for one whole minute

Look at me, I'm the King of New York

Wait and see

This is gonna make both the Delancey's pee in their panties

Flash pots are shooting bright as the sun

I'm one highfalutin' son of a gun

I guarantee, though I crapped out

I ain't tapped out, I'm the King of New-

Friends they flee, let them ditch us

Snap one picture

You're the King of New-

History, front page story

Guts and glory

I'm the King

Of New York!