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 pole 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 bet another six pack Bet I make comeback I know that this table's got a lean Won't you take me fishin'? You'll probably be nothing but the 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 "And I wanna try out For the seventh grade football team"