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

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Aaron Sharp, Alexander Jackson, Chonrak Lerdamornpong, Gregory Erwin




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