Runnin' pretty, New York City girl (twenty-five, thirty-five)
Hello, baby, New York City girl
You grew up ridin' the subways, running with people
Up in Harlem, down on Broadway
You're no tramp, but you're no lady, talkin' that street talk
You're the heart and soul of New York City
And love, love is just a passing word
It's the thought you had in a taxi cab that got left on the curb
When he dropped you off and he stated firm
Oh, oh, oh (oh, oh, oh)
You're a native New Yorker
You should know the score by now (you should know by now)
You're a native New Yorker