The Last Outlaw

"Come on out with your hands high!

"Hahahaha, with your hands high!

Hahhaha huh I better reason with him"

Why don't you ride to the rhythm of a nigga don't give a fuck about ya'

Won't even talk about ya', ho

You ain't know? I'm just a hustler, in spite of myself

Ridin' all by myself, without no one else

Looky here

On my Doc Holidays, boy I piss upon your grave

And wipe the smile away

Nigga, don't even try

Fistful of dollars, we gon' ride

Ya hear me, nigga?

See I ain't got that many friends, white tombstone

[???] Me and Rudy go to war with - anybody

From the niggas, to the killas

They callin' me a bad man ridin' 'cross the desert plains

And Mama still can't explain without the 'caine

It's raw, boy

Cowboys hear the "Yippie-yi-yay!"

Murder dancin' where the Indians play

Watch what you say

Durin' the spiritual ritual huntified ceremony

Clickin' swines[?] that'll get you on a Shetland pony

Memoirs of a madman - Killer Carl Cox and Bill Watts

'Couldn't rassle nappy niggas with a lasso

Heated like Tabasco, it's on

Nigga quick on the draw

And he get to bustin' on them bitches like the Last Outlaw

Uh, nigga what!

"Hahha...

Cowboy I'm gonna [???] you are a testly li'l cuss(whistling)"

Niggas and bitches call me Nino Corleone, I got a license to kill

But ain't no playa hatin' in me, I got love for the real

So if you see me with my [guv?], just move and step aside

Hit me up and let a nigga just ride

South Side

Got your mouth wide, buckin' for nothin'

Now if you're 'bout it, be 'bout it 'bout it, and without no discussion

Now if you're talkin', keep talkin