My Time from Cashes Out by Rubber Band Gun

’I bet it on my life
And I bet it all on black
Number 75 like
The bags we’ve had to pack
We were running for our lives
Like the horses at the track
And I had something in my eye
But maybe it was just the cash

Making me cry
Like a roll of the dice
I couldn’t think of a better way
To make you fall for a guy

Baby
Like the edge of dull knife
Carving up the day
I’m sick of sittin on the sideline
Throwing it all away
Trying to call at the right time
I ain’t got the hand to play
Gotta fold like a valentine
And you know that’s ice made some mistakes

Trying to keep in line
Like a junkie at night
I’ll pick you up at the paradise
Looking out for a fight

My time
My times gone
I got nothing to live for baby
If you leave your money home
My types My types cold
I’m so hot at the tables baby you don’t gotta keep me warm

You were right
When you told me to fold
Oh I should have known

’I bet it on my life
I bet it all on black
No it won’t be like last time
You know my lucky streak is back
they gave me 75 nights
To put the money in the bag
I just need a few dimes
And I swear that I’ll pay you back

My time
My times gone
Baby I got no use for you if you leave your money home
Yea you’re my type
My types cold
I’m so hot at the tables baby you don’t gotta keep me warm

I’ll keep you in mind
With some American wine
Got a table for nine
At The Tropicana tonight
I’ll be outside your door
Like a flickering light

My time
My times gone
I got nothing to live for baby
if you leave me all alone
Cause you’re My ride
Take me home
I got nothing to live for baby if you leave me all alone

• Birmingham