Print

I don't wanna bet but my father wrote a check that I bet his ass could never cash He's betting on the eight ball landing in the side wall, cold-blooded killer if you ask But every night he needs me to land himself a red three-corner pocket at 12 am Only twelve years old but I got a hold of a pool stick I was gifted from him My father is a betting man But I got myself a steady hand He's sitting in the corner with a six-pack of Corona Betting that his son will win again Go bet another six-pack Bet I make a comeback [?] table's got a lean Won't you to take me fishing and I want to try out for the seventh grade football team He'll probably be nothing but this town's old drunkard and die on a smoke-stained stool Right now he's got a bargain that he's taken too far on his boys' game of nine-ball pool My father was a betting man But I got myself a steady hand He's sitting in the corner with a six pack of Corona Betting that his son will win again My father was a betting man My father was a betting man But I got myself a steady hand He's sitting in the corner with a six pack of Corona Betting that his son will win again I don't wanna bet but my father wrote a check that I bet his ass could never cash He's betting on the eight ball landing in the side wall, cold blooded killer if you ask From Letras Mania