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Lyrics
She's got style she's got grace An appetite for expensive taste They made the angels in her mold Feels at home in a centerfold Don't try lines and don't try jokes She eats up men like Hall and Oates There's no tricks that you can try There's no gifts money can buy Put your hands up Before she turns and walks away This is your one shot Time for your ace in the hole Put your hands up Before she turns and walks away This is your one shot Time for your ace in the hole, hole Time for your ace in the hole Put your quarters in the slot Hope and pray for a jackpot Better chances with the dice Than take her home with you tonight She doesn't bother finding love There is no man that's good enough Lucky sevens come up eights Rabbit's feet won't help your fate Put your hands up Before she turns and walks away This is your one shot Time for your ace in the hole Put your hands up Before she turns and walks away This is your one shot Time for your ace in the hole, hole Time for your ace in the hole Time for your ace in the hole Time for your ace in the hole Time for your ace in the hole
More songs from Saint Motel
Do Everything Now
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Song Info
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Vocals
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