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.
