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
Cold-blooded killer if you ask
But every night he needs me
to land himself a red three
Only 12 years old but I got a hold
of a pole stick I was gifted from him
I know that this table's got a lean
Won't you take me fishin', and I wanna try out
For the seventh grade football team
You'll probably be nothing
but this town's old drunkard
And die on a smoke stained stool
Right now he's got a bargain
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
