He's got a sharkskin suit and a diamond earring He's got jet-black hair, just like his mother He's got a jail tattoo, from his long-lost brother He's got a shotgun fuse, don't you pull his trigger Broke from jail without a gun, public enemy number one Killed a man on the run On the lam, without bail headed straight back to jail Nowhere else for him to go daddy-o, daddy-o Nowhere else for him to go daddy-o, daddy-o He rolls snake-eyes, Jack, he's gonna make his money He's headin' west, on a killin' spree Down in L.A., you know the killin's free (He was born on the 4th of July. The kind of guy, when he spoke to you, he stared you straight in the eye. You know, man, when he walked into the room, you would feel it. And man, when he walked in the room, it sounded like this) He got a hundred years, and the electric chair His final words were, I don't care (The way the legend goes, is he was executed shortly after midnight. Some witnesses say he seemed to be enjoying himself. One witness said he died with a smile on his face. He was one bad, bad man)