As if!

He comes round with his window cleaning gear  
whistling some well known bohemian air  
wears gold earrings, street cred' is now, so dear  
as he runs up his ladders like heaven's stairs.  
  
Tanned and sleek full of self-confident wealth  
he says, ''you're next, miss "  but thinks "she will purr!"  
rippling muscles, bouncing round with rude health  
with a chest full of black gorilla fur.  
   
He cleans windows like an athletic cat  
stalks these streets like an animal on the hunt  
but I know the repertoire, all of the chat,  
and the sleazy way he says '' back'n front ? ''  
   
'' Shall I do your insides there's not a spot missed? ''  
   As I'm paying him I think, '' yeah... as if! ''