2 Skinnee J's - The Good, the Bad & the Skinnee

It's the Good the bad and the Skinnee
The sun in the sky let I know it was high noon
Hit the town center and enter the saloon
Six shooter by my side but I'm down by five
And the sign says J Guevara dead or alive
Who shot the sheriff? I swear it wasn't me
Case taken by mistaken identity
Now deputies and mounties hunt my black ass for bounty
Now I'm jetting to avoid these Boba Fetting fiends that hound me
There's a rally for an ally with voice loud like town crier
On a steed name of tumbleweed arrives the Pale Rider
It's the honkee on the donkey, my compadre Special J
J Guevara knows the graveyard, but I know the grave
We're guys in our disguises, with our mustaches phony
As we exit stage left we go express like a pony
Then we're loose from the noose and we're back in the saddle
il' Bruto's in the pack of the riff raff and rabble

We're lost like Atlantis in this land of the lawless
Legendary mercenary with an aim that is flawless
In a mess nonetheless I confess like a sinner
Special J's got my back while the buzzards got my innards, for dinner
The cowards cower, the brave brave the elements
I search the scenery for signs of intelligence
Is this the fate of the J's, Special and Guevara
Take our last breath of air up there on the Sierra
Our hopes are dropping, the temperature is rising
But look over there, where, there on the horizon
A lone horseman approaches behold
With gold from stagecoaches and fortunes fortold
Now dreams of more clams than found by the seashore
Have got J and I digging graves like Igor
But when the world divides and men turn on their sons
Those with their shovels and those with their guns

Badges, we don't need no stinking badges
Where justice comes looser than Swedish massages
Special J blowing up like a stick of dynamite
I'm the rootinest tootenist hombre since Samuel Yosemite
And I up the ante, you cant beat the J vig

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Music

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