| This is why the World Series of Poker
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| Is decided over a no limit poker tournament
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| Players, pro’s even, can’t handle the pressure of the game
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| They consider no limit the only pure game left
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| You gotta know how to play your cards, have a mean poker face
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| And know an ace deuce can take out your pocket broads
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| This is no limit hold 'em, you gotta know when to fold 'em
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| If you plan on, staying on top
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| You can’t lose, what you don’t push into the pot
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| You can’t make much either, if you a believer of luck
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| Go all in, if you’re feeling your cards, deep in your gut
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| It was a late Saturday night, big chips, we had a lotta
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| Theodore performed at the plush Borgata
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| It was an hour in, big chip leader of the game
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| Caught pocket jacks and flopped two more of the same
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| Looking at quads, waiting for someone to bluff
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| So I checked til someone said «I had enough
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| I’m raising a thousand, son I pay to see the river»
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| Caught an ace and his face, was a straight up giver
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| He had three now, must of caught two in the hole
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| A full boat, I’m about to sink ship, tell him to fold
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| He laughs, raises his fifty g’s, please I need chip count
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| The pit boss, swear I flip over, you gon' flip out
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| I’m all in, here to win, I rep Staten Island
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| He called it, I showed four jacks, he started wilding
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| This son of bitch.
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| All night, he set me up, he check, check, he trapped me!
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| It was a cash game, 100/200 dollar table
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| Me and Johnny Mack sitting, God willing and able
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| July 23rd and 4th, the lions is out
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| It’s the month of the Leo, we gon' win with no doubt
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| Bunch of high rollers, laughing like we low-limit amateurs
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| I buy in for the max, twenty G’s, I’mma damage ya
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| Couple of chuckles, broken glasses, all tinted
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| I’mma put ya’ll all on tilt, give me a minute
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| So I check, raise 'em, bluff 'em, ain’t showing my cards
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| Two, four, off-two, ya’ll ain’t no superstars
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| I should of been at the table, World Series of Poker
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| I’m up 80 G’s already, ya’ll a bunch of jokers
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| Now they all on tilt, raising, I call 'em all in
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| With pocket three’s, for 80 G’s, I’m ready to fall in
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| Flop two aces, caught my three on fourth street
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| A four hundred thousand dollar pot boy, life’s sweet
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| He beat me. |
| straight up
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| Pay him, pay Shawn Wigs his money |