THE PIMP

What would you like to have today?
Our specialty is The Judge’s Verdict.
Only Fifty Pounds Sire
And you’ll have it served fresh and full of fire.
Do not ire.

We can send your enemy on an island
And let him rot in the Sun dire
We can put him to rest, I suggest
And win you my friend a hundred lire.
If you so desire.

The Money spent is heaven sent
Only meant to overrun the dissent
And all the words the Judges spake
Were, you will find, towards your end.
May you please continue to offend.

For crimes committed give rise
To our status and infamous attire
For we are armed with women and wine
To help you buy your shire.
Shall we bring it on, Sire?