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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