Drinking cold cerveza in a boiling hot saloon
Chasing shots of tequila, just about high noon
Outside Nuevo Laredo, deep in no man’s land
 [bad word] a killer or be killed; face down in the Rio Grande

Poverty will turn the life of any good man bad
All love and mercy ever learned, he’ll soon forget what he had

Guns, [bad word]  and money under the Mexican sky
Guns, [bad word]  and money; pick your poison or you die
Guns, [bad word]  and money; a pistol pressed to his head 
Choose silver and you’re rich; you gonna die if you choose lead

He had a suitcase full of money, plenty of ammo for his gun
The sweat rolls down his dirty face, his plans have [bad word] undone
It’s just a matter of time, no matter how he tries
He hears “Plata O Plomo, Gringo?” the last words before he dies