Tango & Cash

Lyrics

Nineteen eighty-nine. December twenty-second.
The air smells like hairspray and impending explosions.
Armani suit on the west side, Ray Tango.
Reads the Wall Street Journal.
Stock portfolio's looking good.
Downtown, it's Gabe Cash.
Torn jeans, beat-up truck.
Three days of stubble and a bad attitude.
One's a scalpel, one's a sledgehammer.
LAPD's finest, an odd couple nightmare.
Call the precinct! Call the papers!
It's Tango and Cash!
One's the rhythm, one's the payment.
It's Tango and Cash!
It ain't subtle, it ain't deep.
Just two names you gotta keep.
On the marquee, neon flash.
Tango and Cash!
Yves Perret on the line, Jack Palance on the screen.
Sets 'em up good, makes the crime scene clean.
Throws 'em in the county lock-up, general population.
Two top cops on a forced vacation.
Tango's planning, Cash is fighting.
Mismatched partners, perfect lighting.
Kurt asks Sly, "Rambo? That wimp?"
The whole damn movie lives on that glint.
Call the precinct! Call the papers!
It's Tango and Cash!
One's the rhythm, one's the payment.
It's Tango and Cash!
It ain't subtle, it ain't deep.
Just two names you gotta keep.
On the marquee, neon flash.
Tango and Cash!
They bust out, rooftop wires in the rain.
Steal an armored truck to clear their name.
The S-180, a beautiful machine.
The most ridiculous thing you've ever seen.
Andrei Konchalovsky started the take.
But Stallone said, "Man, for goodness sake.
More explosions, bigger guns."
That's how the buddy-cop genre runs.
Call the precinct! Call the papers!
It's Tango and Cash!
One's the rhythm, one's the payment.
It's Tango and Cash!
It ain't subtle, it ain't deep.
Just two names you gotta keep.
On the marquee, neon flash.
Tango and Cash!
Heard Tango say...
"You're a disease, and I'm the cure!"
High-five.
Fade to black.