Like many artists on No Limit, Young Bleed is a native of Louisiana. He was… Read Full Bio ↴Like many artists on No Limit, Young Bleed is a native of Louisiana. He was signed to the label after earning the attention of No Limit founder and CEO Master P, who had Young Bleed rap on the I'm Bout It soundtrack in early 1997. Around that time, his debut album, My Balls & My Word, was put on the No Limit schedule. It was finally released in January of 1998 and went gold within a month of its release, reaching the Top Ten on the pop album charts. My Own followed in late 1999 and didn't do as well commercially, released by Priority rather than No Limit. Young Bleed returned in 2002 as Young Bleed Carleone with Vintage, the inaugural release by Da'tention Home Records. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide

Da Last Outlaw
Young Bleed Lyrics

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"Come on out with your hands high!
"Hahahaha, with your hands high!
Hahhaha huh I better reason with him"

Why don't you ride to the rhythm of a nigga don't give a fuck about ya'
Won't even talk about ya', ho
You ain't know? I'm just a hustler, in spite of myself
Ridin' all by myself, without no one else

Looky here
On my Doc Holidays, boy I piss upon your grave
And wipe the smile away
Nigga, don't even try
Fistful of dollars, we gon' ride
Ya hear me, nigga?
See I ain't got that many friends, white tombstone
[???] Me and Rudy go to war with - anybody

From the niggas, to the killas
They callin' me a bad man ridin' 'cross the desert plains
And Mama still can't explain without the 'caine
It's raw, boy
Cowboys hear the "Yippie-yi-yay!"
Murder dancin' where the Indians play
Watch what you say
Durin' the spiritual ritual huntified ceremony
Clickin' swines[?] that'll get you on a Shetland pony
Memoirs of a madman - Killer Carl Cox and Bill Watts
'Couldn't rassle nappy niggas with a lasso
Heated like Tabasco, it's on
Nigga quick on the draw
And he get to bustin' on them bitches like the Last Outlaw
Uh, nigga what!

"Hahha...
Cowboy I'm gonna [???] you are a testly li'l cuss(whistling)"

Niggas and bitches call me Nino Corleone, I got a license to kill
But ain't no playa hatin' in me, I got love for the real
So if you see me with my [guv?], just move and step aside
Hit me up and let a nigga just ride
South Side
Got your mouth wide, buckin' for nothin'
Now if you're 'bout it, be 'bout it 'bout it, and without no discussion
Now if you're talkin', keep talkin', and get a dick in yo' mouth
Don't hide now, torchin' up the whole house
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
Picture me coolin' on the 6th day of June
Down in Cancun, Mexico
But if you stress me, ho, I guess I gotta let it go
And ain't no shootin' up at the moon
I'm tryin' to knock yo' ass up out the saloon
Cock, kaboom!
In a raccoon hat like Davy Crockett
Fuckin' wit' that opium, getting high as a rocket
And, um, rocket gonna blast, for playin' with the trigger
Nigga, rocket put a cap in a nigga(boo-ya!)
Full a' that weed
Watchin' motherfuckers bleed
But not takin' heed
Steady proceeding with their devilish deeds
Fatal with flaw, mad at the world with no regards for the Law
Finna' get to bustin' on them bitches like the last outlaw
Huh, nigga, what!

"I coulda killed ya Dick, I coulda killed ya.
But I don't want to kill ya, I want to eat"

I fought the Law, and the Law won
You see, I shot the sheriff but forgot his son
Totin' on a shotgun with pistol full of hot ones
"Ay yo, sheriff, he still wit' you?" I popped him and dropped him
And took his potna's crown
It's a brand new sheriff in town
And I don't think you want to fuck around
Double jeopardy for the deputy dog
Fuckin' wit' a hog
Say y'all, y'all motherfuckers tried to ball
The rise and fall
For y'all, nigga, I'll be a huckleberry
Spittin' fire from the blood that me and Lucky Knuckles carry
Legendary, hereditary for niggas that know
I'm out the window with a stagecoach, fresh out the poke
My homie Loc gave me an order that the blind could see
Told me to blow him away, or make him ride with me
Put on your boots, cowboy, and pass the pound
I got the moonshine water makin' wine(nigga)
One of a kind, genuine
Know when to hold 'em and fold 'em
y'all niggas gotta give me mine before I roll 'em, though
Playin' is raw
Quick on the draw
Hollerin' 'bout "Fuck what you saw!"
Chewin' on straw
Steady bustin' like the Last Outlaw!
Huh, nigga what!

"You gotta test yourself every day, gentlemen.
One you stop testing yourself, you get slow.
And when that happens, they kill you."

[Gunshots and screams]

Overall Meaning

The chorus of "Da Last Outlaw" is an aggressive call to action, with the singer imploring someone to raise their hands while laughing uncontrollably. The lyrics that follow paint a picture of a solitary figure who rides to the rhythm of his own lawless lifestyle. He is a hustler who is indifferent to the opinions of others about him. He is always ready for a fight, and he has very few friends. He is fearless, and he rides through the desert where the cowboys and Indians mix. The narrative takes many dark turns from there, with the singer admitting to being ready to kill anyone who threatens him. The singer is a legend in his own right, a killer with a license to thrill.

The song is an ode to the last outlaw, the kind of man who does not bow to authority and is always ready for a fight. The lyrics are painted in vivid colors, with the singer's confident and unwavering style taking center stage. He rattles off a litany of threats and boasts, painting himself as an unstoppable force of nature. The chorus is a taunt to those who would try to take on the singer, while the verses detail the kind of life he leads. The message seems to be that, in a world where conformity is the norm, it is the last outlaw who truly thrives.

Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS

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