You don't need money when you're famous
They gives you whatever you want, gratis
Such as
A pair of new shoes with matchin' laces
A permanent box at Sheepshead races
Pastrami on rye with a sour pickle
A personal puss on a wooden nickel
Look at me
I'm the king of New York
Suddenly
I'm respectable
Starin' right at 'cha
Lousy with stature
Nobbin' with all the muckety-mucks
I'm blowin' my dough and goin' deluxe
And there I 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 terlet
A barber shop haircut that costs a quarter
A regular beat for the star reporter
Am-scray, punk, she's the king of New York
Whod'a thunk, I'm the king of New York
We was sunk, pale and pitiful
Buncha wet noodles
Pulitzer's poodles
Almost about to drown in the drink
When she fished us out
And drowned us in ink
So lets get drunk
Yeah
Not with liquor, fame works quicker
When you're king of New York
I gotta be either dead or dreamin'
'Cause look at that pape with my face beamin'
Tomorrow they may wrap fishes in it
But I was the 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 pant-sies
Flashpots are shootin' bright as a sun
I'm one highfallutin' son of a gun
I guarantee
Though I crapped out, I ain't tapped out
I'm the king of New
Friends may flee
Let'em ditch ya, snap one pit'cha
Your the king of New
History, front page story
Guts and glory, I'm the king of New York
