Instrumente
Ensembles
Genres
Komponiste
Presteerders

Lirieke: Mo Thugs. Ghetto Cowboy.

You better count your money, ghetto cowboy

The name is Krayzie Big Bad Ass Bone
Wanted up north for all the gold that I stole
Along with some cash, even took the mayors daughter
Now, that there's kidnappin' but she was with it, so I brought her

Then, got myself into a whole heap of trouble
Double-crossed by the law, so there's nobody to run to
Yeah, it's just me and my sawed-off shotgun
Outlaw call him Leather Face

I'm headed for the West, heard they got
A couple banks in town that ain't been held up yet
Well, uh, I oughta make it by sundown
I figure thats enough time for me to get the whole rundown

So, I continue my mission, it's gettin' dark
So I'm watchin' for them damn Injuns
They like to catch ya, then they rob and split
I be a rootin' tootin' shootin' damn fool, protectin' my chips

All of a sudden, I heard somebody rumble in the bushes
Stop my horse, whoa, Nellie, who in the bushes?
You better speak out or I'm a let my shotgun song sing out
Thug Queen, the horse stealer?

Who is this? I hope this ain't the law
Jump out the bushes with my sawed-off shotgun
C'mon out, right now I'm gettin' angry
Took a step back, 'cause it could get dangerous

Please don't shoot, it's just me
Then, why the hell is you hidin' in them bushes
I'm wanted in four counties for armed robbery
Killed to two sheriffs, six of his best men with my hand
Stole two horses

Thought you was the law, that's why I jumped in the bushes
Goodness now, she was hotter than the barrel on fire
But I could use her for the job, so I told her to ride, c'mon

May I ask you what you headed to the West for
I got a partner, got a plan for some dough
And if you're down, you can pick up yourself a pretty penny
Be in town in a minute, now be sure if yore with it

We out before the sun rise
Gotta stallion for your partner to ride
Hit the saloon for the moonshine
Down for whatever, let's ride, let's ride

These directions say we go to Tucson, Arizona
When we arrive, we'll cop a place we can bunk
And meet my boy in the mornin' for details and hook-up
You better count your money, ghetto cowboy

Rise and shine, good mornin' howdy
Nine o clock we meet my boy in the saloon in the valley
Now, I done came a long way, and I don't wanna be late
Tell him I make ya, 'cause you know we ain't
Move out, giddyup, giddyup, giddyup
(Whip cracks, horses neigh)

You better count your money, ghetto cowboy
I'm peepin' Krayzies wanted poster in the saloon
So I assume it'll be trouble around here pretty soon
Glance across the room

I see this youngster getting ready to fight
But if he mess up the night
I think that Krayzie just might take his life
So, I approach him and I pause

Look, man, I really don't wanna brawl
But won't you chill before them laws come
Messin' up this master plan
Since he already rowdy, I just asked the man

Hey, you want some work?
Well, partner, put in your bid
And by the way, now what's your name?
They call me Layzie the Kid

The names Powder P, can I get a twelve gauge?
Outlaw, everyday on the front page
Mister Kid, if you give me the lowdown
Me and Black Jack be ready for the showdown

With two double-barrels pointed at whatever
Well stick together, I'm purty clever
So saddle up, jump on the bandwagon
Because its all goin' down
I heard a guy run in the bar screamin' "Krayzies in town"

Now when we get to the saloon, you dont worry
Wait outside and don't be stealin', nobody's damn horses
Step inside the bar, Lay the Kid, you son of a gun
Hey, man, I'm glad you made it safely

Now let's go have some fun
And this my partner Powder
He's a young gun
Howdy

Mighty glad to meet ya, son
Oh yeah, you know I also brought a friend along
Meet Thug Queen, the horse peddler
Straggler, just met her

Howdy, partner, already got the horses saddled up
I hope you good at robbin' banks like you rustle that cattle up
Now, y'all, it's gon' be gettin' dark real soon
I think you're right, I say we move

C'mon, let's move out
Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup, move out
(Whip cracks, horses neigh)
You better count your money, ghetto cowboy