[Intro]
Give me a motherfuckin' break beat!
Okay, this time I am not introducing the hi-hat
And I am not introducing the tambourine
This is the re-re-remix, ha-ha-ha-ha
Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha
Ha-ha-ha-ha (Mmm!)
Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha (Whoo, yeah)
DJ!

[Verse 1]
Who's that gigolo on the street
With his hands in his pockets and his crocodile feet?
Hanging off the curb, looking all disturbed
And the boys from home, they all came running
They were making noise, manhandling toys
There's the girls on the block with the nasty curls
Wearing padded bras sucking beers through straws
Dropping down their drawers, where did you get yours?

[Interlude]
Gigolo
Huh, sucka?
Gigolo. Gigolo
Huh, sucka?
Gigolo
[Pre-Chorus]
Who's looking good today?
Who's looking good in every way?
No style rookie
You better watch, don't mess with me

[Chorus]
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman could win my love

[Verse 2]
So you say you wanted money but you know it's never funny
When your shoes worn through and there's a rumble in your tummy
So you had to have style get a gold tooth smile
Put a girl on the corner so you can make a pile
You committed a crime and went inside
It was coming your way but you had to survive
When you lost your babe, you lost the race
Now you're looking at me to take her place
I could bet all my rent
All my dollars and all my cents
That your reason for bein' at my door
Is because you're yearnin' for somethin' more
You can't buy me with none of your money
So don't you try and steal me, honey
Pressure is on and it's for real
I don't care when you say
If I just have let you stay
You'll sell your car and all your gold
Your crocodile shoes and your fur coat
You can sell your soul, gigolo!
Let's get a stop before I wanna know
Word
[Chorus]
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman could win my love

[Bridge]
Smokin' not cokin'
Get funky sax
Looking good, hang in with the Wild Bunch
Looking good in a Buffalo Stance
Looking good when it comes to the crunch
Looking good's a state of mind
State of mind don't look behind you
State of mind or you'll be dead
State of mind may I remind you
Bomb the bass, rock this place!

[Interlude]
What is he like? (Does that sound like Janet Jackson? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!)
Yo, man, what do you expect? The guy's a gigolo, man! (Get, get, get, get, funky)
You know I mean? (Get, get, get, funky)
Ha-ha-ha-ha (This is [?] sick, [?])
Your motherfuckin' romantic sick [?], it ain't for real (Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Sucka! (It's bullshit) (Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Get it? (Ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha)
[Verse 3]
If you're looking for somebody to give you body
You better find some other body
To put on a leather seat in the back
Of your brand-new Cadillac
You can hop your stuff, put it down the block
To the girls on the corner with the curly locks
The ones that are not searchin' for
Somethin' worth livin' for
Yet we'll give you what you want for free
But that is not what you get from me
Sucka! Word!

[Chorus]
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman could win my love

[Outro]
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman
No moneyman, sucka
No moneyman could win my love