Buffalo Stance (Sukka Mix)

Lyrics

[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