Alameda: Now listen up! There are crooks in this here West Who have claimed to be the best, An' think they wrote the book on how to rustle.
Well, as good as they may be, Not a one's as good as me, An' I barely have to move a single muscle!
They call me mean, boys, Depraved and nasty too. And they ain't seen, boys, The cruelest thing I do:
You see, I yodel-adle-eedle-idle-odle! The sweetest way of rustlin' yet devised! 'Cause when I yodel-adle-eedle-idle-odle! Why, looky how them cows get hypnotized!
Bill: He don't prod, Phil: he don't yell, Gill: Still he drives them dogies well, Brothers: Which ain't easy when your chaps are labeled XXXXL!
Alameda: Yes, if you’re lookin' from a bovine point of view, I sure can yodel-adle-eedle-idle Yodel-adle-eedle-idle Yodel-adle-eedle-idle-oo!
(Here we go, boys! Five thousand cattle in the side pocket!)
[Yodels \"William Tell overture\", \"Yankee Doodle\", and \"Beethoven's Ode to Joy\"]
Yes, I can yodel-adle-eedle-odle Brothers: A sound them cattle truly take to heart! Alameda: Yeah, I can yodel-adle-eedle-idle-odle! An' smack my big ol' rump if that ain't art!
Gill: He don't rope! Bill: Not a chance! Phil: He just puts 'em in a trance! Brothers: He's a pioneer Pied Piper in ten-gallon underpants!
Alameda: Yep! I'm the real rip-roarin' deal to those who moo! Thanks to my yodel-adle-eedle-idle Yodle-adle-eedle-idle I got cattle out the ol' wazoo! 'Cause I can yodel-adle-eedle-idle-oo!