La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo
One time, two time
Giving' me a slow one
Flipping' lovers hands
With a trigger of a handgun
Three time, four time
Throw me on a big bed
Open up your mouth
I'll put a bullet in your dumb head
(Oh)
Big lips she shifts
Smells of a little hot sun
I know she can dance
But she really is a fat one
Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
And it was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed
And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
F*cking mental
It's all
Over before it begins
And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps
Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head
There was a singer in the windows
And a humming in my poor head,
She was smoking in the corner
And said I'll hold you, don't you feel dead
Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
It was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed
And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
F*cking mental
It's all
Over before it begins
And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps
Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head
Chase me half way down the street
Shooting' at my aching feet
Got no I.D
Got no clothes
Am I dead?
Christ only knows
The Pimp Video (MV)
The Fratellis - The Pimp Lyrics
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La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo
One time, two time
Giving' me a slow one
Flipping' lovers hands
With a trigger of a handgun
Three time, four time
Throw me on a big bed
Open up your mouth
I'll put a bullet in your dumb head
(Oh)
Big lips she shifts
Smells of a little hot sun
I know she can dance
But she really is a fat one
Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
And it was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed
And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
F*cking mental
It's all
Over before it begins
And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps
Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head
There was a singer in the windows
And a humming in my poor head,
She was smoking in the corner
And said I'll hold you, don't you feel dead
Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
It was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed
And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
F*cking mental
It's all
Over before it begins
And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps
Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head
Chase me half way down the street
Shooting' at my aching feet
Got no I.D
Got no clothes
Am I dead?
Christ only knows
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo,
La la la la la la lo
One time, two time
Giving' me a slow one
Flipping' lovers hands
With a trigger of a handgun
Three time, four time
Throw me on a big bed
Open up your mouth
I'll put a bullet in your dumb head
(Oh)
Big lips she shifts
Smells of a little hot sun
I know she can dance
But she really is a fat one
Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
And it was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed
And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
F*cking mental
It's all
Over before it begins
And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps
Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head
There was a singer in the windows
And a humming in my poor head,
She was smoking in the corner
And said I'll hold you, don't you feel dead
Well I must admit I was a little scared
When she got undressed
It was bang bang bang
But she wasn't impressed
And it's all
Sick and gentle
It's all
F*cking mental
It's all
Over before it begins
And it's all
Worse than dying
It's all
Terrifying
It's all
Little pistols and pimps
Lying on this big girls floor
Tell me something
Tell me more
Pistols on her swollen bed
Pointing at my aching head
Chase me half way down the street
Shooting' at my aching feet
Got no I.D
Got no clothes
Am I dead?
Christ only knows