Letras

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 a.m. Only 12 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'll win again Go get another six-pack, bet I make a comeback I know that this table's got a lean Won't you take me fishing, and I wanna 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'll 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'll win again I don't wanna bet, but my daddy 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
Writer(s): Zachary Lane Bryan Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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