Lirik Lagu The Good, The Bad, And The Skinnee - 2 Skinnee J's
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It's the Good the bad and the SkinneeThe sun in the sky let I know it was high noonHit the town center and enter the saloonSix shooter by my side but I'm down by fiveAnd the sign says J Guevara dead or aliveWho shot the sheriff? I swear it wasn't meCase taken by mistaken identityNow deputies and mounties hunt my black ass for bountyNow I'm jetting to avoid these Boba Fetting fiends that hound meThere's a rally for an ally with voice loud like town crierOn a steed name of tumbleweed arrives the Pale RiderIt's the honkee on the donkey, my compadre Special JJ Guevara knows the graveyard, but I know the graveWe're guys in our disguises, with our mustaches phonyAs we exit stage left we go express like a ponyThen we're loose from the noose and we're back in the saddleil' Bruto's in the pack of the riff raff and rabble
We're lost like Atlantis in this land of the lawlessLegendary mercenary with an aim that is flawlessIn a mess nonetheless I confess like a sinnerSpecial J's got my back while the buzzards got my innards, for dinnerThe cowards cower, the brave brave the elementsI search the scenery for signs of intelligenceIs this the fate of the J's, Special and GuevaraTake our last breath of air up there on the SierraOur hopes are dropping, the temperature is risingBut look over there, where, there on the horizonA lone horseman approaches beholdWith gold from stagecoaches and fortunes fortoldNow dreams of more clams than found by the seashoreHave got J and I digging graves like IgorBut when the world divides and men turn on their sonsThose with their shovels and those with their guns
Badges, we don't need no stinking badgesWhere justice comes looser than Swedish massagesSpecial J blowing up like a stick of dynamiteI'm the rootinest tootenist hombre since Samuel YosemiteAnd I up the ante, you cant beat the J vig
We're lost like Atlantis in this land of the lawlessLegendary mercenary with an aim that is flawlessIn a mess nonetheless I confess like a sinnerSpecial J's got my back while the buzzards got my innards, for dinnerThe cowards cower, the brave brave the elementsI search the scenery for signs of intelligenceIs this the fate of the J's, Special and GuevaraTake our last breath of air up there on the SierraOur hopes are dropping, the temperature is risingBut look over there, where, there on the horizonA lone horseman approaches beholdWith gold from stagecoaches and fortunes fortoldNow dreams of more clams than found by the seashoreHave got J and I digging graves like IgorBut when the world divides and men turn on their sonsThose with their shovels and those with their guns
Badges, we don't need no stinking badgesWhere justice comes looser than Swedish massagesSpecial J blowing up like a stick of dynamiteI'm the rootinest tootenist hombre since Samuel YosemiteAnd I up the ante, you cant beat the J vig
