King Of New York

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Текст, перевод и аккорды “King Of New York”
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'm your biggest fan next to my little brother Paul. Losing his grip, like Pesci, he'd flip if you talk to his brother he says they 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 he bought the suits but the boys didn't like him mto tell you the truth he had J.G. on his pinky ring and he lied about doin' some time up in sing-sing he 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, The King of New York He got a clipper from a stripper, he met at a club two sticks of dynamite and a .38 Snub he tried to see the Don, without an invitation stood outside the gate with his three man demonstartion 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 and then 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 sait, I don't fly coach, never save the roach, The King of New York. La-di da-di, free John Gotti, The King of New York

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