| Listen up, brother
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| Got a little rhyme for you
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| But I gotta tell you
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| I ain’t no durn singer
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| I’m a gunslinger
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| Who’s a better gunslinger?
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| That’s a humdinger
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| Blood blister on my one finger from triggers
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| And I don’t hunt deer
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| So chump, here’s something I’d like to advise
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| Better run for your life if you’d like to survive in the frontier
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| It’s like you drunk beer, brain ain’t configured
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| A word to the wise and your mind will become clear
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| Bright as the lights on the rides of a fun fair
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| So come bring your Jesse James and Billy the Kid
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| I’ll make a mess of their brains and fill 'em with lead
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| And I will until every damn villain is dead
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| Then I’m bringin' the sheriff a bag full of their heads
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| Handlin' any man that is plannin' to stand in my path
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| Because I’m heavy-handed with every bandit I wrangle with
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| And we’re in a century that hasn’t any ambulances
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| So best pack your best brandy and bandages
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| When I’m rat-a-tat-tattin' on my gatling guns
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| The blast attacks faster than my battlin' puns
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| A LeMat in my one hand and another in my other
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| So get runnin' for cover, you would you rather be buggered?
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| Shots, I’m lickin' off like the sugar on my cherry strudel
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| I’m quick on the draw, call me Mary Doodles
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| I’m gettin' reward money to bury people
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| And as a result, I never need to be very frugal
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| 'Less you want your tooth pulled, pay the dentist
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| I break rackets as if it’s an angry game of tennis
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| Don’t hate the player, no, hate the business
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| I make a livin' from wanted posters: Jay McGuiness
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| Forget a hook
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| I ain’t no durn singer
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| Brother, look
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| I’m just a gunslinger
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| So forget a hook
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| I ain’t no durn singer
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| Brother, look
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| I’m just gonna get some dynamite and then I’ll light my pipe
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| And when the timing’s right, I’ll set the skies alight
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| Kind of like Juarez calls for Silas Greaves
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| To make you fall like a pile of leaves
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| Shootin' line after line after line of thieves
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| And I’ve touched more gold than a miner’s sleeves
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| When I wield dual revolvers, you’ll feel the coldness
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| Once in a blue moon, I’m using my holsters
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| Shootin' my Colt, I’m too skilled to falter
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| Is it any wonder saloons here are closed?
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| When you bring a whole platoon filled with soldiers
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| I barbecue fools, a new meal for vultures
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| High noon, we’re overdue for elevenses
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| I left the saloon, it was strewn with your severed limbs
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| Bringin' just a shoe to a shootout
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| To kick your booty so brutally, you’ll never get my boot out
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| Forget a hook
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| I ain’t no durn singer
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| Brother, look
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| I’m just a gunslinger
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| So forget a hook
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| I ain’t no durn singer
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| Brother, look
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| I’m just a gunslinger
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| I’m just a mean-ass gunslinger
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| And I guess that’s all I’ll ever be
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| But lemme tell you
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| That’s all I ever wanna be
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| A mean-ass gunslinger, pardner
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| Beg your pardon, ma’am |