Texas Hold'em

The revolver of guns
No, I don't have the face of Harry Potter
I bet my life on a poker hand
I'm in the game, I have the Benz crownium with a Bohemian
Inside our home, I'm a GMO
Oh! The anthem of regrets, oh hi quint flush royal Texas Hold'em
Every face of the thugs is my mirror
I have no choice, a victim of my story
I'm at war, I have military rigor
Being a man is you win, you lose
Family, friends, mine
I deeply love my mother, her dreams
I want to make them mine
I'm ready to lose everything
I love dull sounds
I was found in a land plantation
I break, I aim, I attract the aces
I prefer to go out at night, I'm like Las Vegas

We don't all have the same things to lose
Nor all the same things to win
We don't all have the bluffs and the verb
In the occupied territories
We don't all have our feet in the shit
The same things to mortgage
We are outsiders, we are mixed
We are greenhorns, we are dark-skinned

I'm tough
Since life is hard to live
Therapy in the suburbs will be hard to follow
We are passing through, take it as a prestige
Given the magnitude of the problems, I'm dizzy
I have a grip, eyes fixed on the sky
Universal, I wait for my star to shine
The worries and troubles, I stack them
I'm an all black, I tackle you like in rugby
To open the safe, you need the code or a tool
Try to read in my pupils
I turn like the mechanism of the Breitling
My music swells your chest like creatine
We don't buy, we make, we are from the traffic school
Without asking for your opinion, we invite ourselves to your table
Life is a poker game
There are sunny days and thunderstorms

We don't all have the same things to lose
Nor all the same things to win
We don't all have the bluffs and the verb
In the occupied territories
We don't all have our feet in the shit
The same things to mortgage
We are outsiders, we are mixed
We are greenhorns, we are dark-skinned

Texas Hold'em, who comes out unscathed from a cash game?
You break, you pay, you play, you lose
I bet everything on a poker hand

The pain of a romantic side
I'm in Olympic form
I'm on autopilot
I fight to honor the absent ones
Life is tough, our elders kept the accent

Our heritage, a solution to every problem
Wake up with every sunrise
Raise kids, end up as a boss
No false notes on the horizon

We don't all have the same things to lose
Nor all the same things to win
We don't all have the bluffs and the verb
In the occupied territories
We don't all have our feet in the shit
The same things to mortgage
We are outsiders, we are mixed
We are greenhorns, we are dark-skinned