Cameo

He said his name was Cameo, Cameo He said his name was Cameo, Cameo He said his name was Cameo He danced a nasty, funk-style retro He drove a bright red '67 GTO He liked to let his Elvis-style hair grow He was a black belt loaded with skills He spoke slow, choosing words that could kill Honest people didn't need to fear him But do not cross that Native American Cameo, Cameo Cameo, Cameo He said his name was Cameo, Cameo He said his name was Cameo, Cameo He would whisper, "White Man speak with forked tongue" Before he was finished talking, you'd be going down He'd repeat, "White Man speak with forked tongue" And by that time you'd be long dead and buried in the ground Cameo, Cameo Cameo, Cameo I said his name was Cameo, Cameo He said his name was Cameo, Cameo He wore a white leather racing jacket Zipped wide open so you could check out His tanned body and his clean-shaved pecs And the turquoise jewelry dangling from his neck He said his name was Cameo, Cameo He said his name was Cameo, Cameo Cameo, Cameo Cameo, Cameo