It's a cold night beneath the street light there's a man whose pants are too tight. Oh no, his pants are too tight. My pants are too tight.
He stands there, an empty stare, trying to make enough money for his cab fare home. He'll have to walk home tonight. Don't have enough for the ride.
The streets are cruel, he just acts cool. He goes to work with only his one tool. You can put away your tool, Jemaine.
You don't have to be a prostitute No no no no no You can say no to being a man-ho, a male gigolo. You don't have to be a prostitute. No no no no no You can say no to being a night-look, a boy hook, a red boy bro-ho.
He cannot see his way out. I cannot see my way out. He can't see his way out. Male prostitution seems to be my only option. He can't see his way out. I cannot see my way out. He can't see his way out. No no no no no
He's selling cheap thrills to pay expensive bills. But check your resume, you must have some other skills. Do you have any other skills… like typing?
They see him wanting to please them, wanting to play them, but they don't even pay him. Oh no no They don't think he's worth it at all.
Though they are no one, he tries to bring them home. Maybe it'd be okay if he lived alone. You have a roommate, Jemaine, don't bring them home.
You don't have to be a prostitute No no no no no You can say no to being a man-ho, a male gigolo. You don't have to be a prostitute. No no no no no You can say no to being a night-look, a boy hook, a red boy bro-ho.