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I busted h roller, or Aces, call an

Before leaving rab h-society tail today

The first four hours, I hit the California, Binion’s, El Cortez, and Golden Gate for blackjack to ensure rand in four hours Not a bad fucking day at all The edge is off now I have two grand to play and two grand back in the wallet Why two grand? I always keep two grand tucked away to get me home—always

I head back to stash it in the safe and take a breather

I flip on the eighty-inch, wall-mounted flat screen and sink down intothe reins, and then I sit back, listening to the news

Later, I wake up feeling like a new man, like a winner I swear I smell hundreds, and those bitches have my name on them

Tonight, I roll up to the valet and toss my keys at him

“Be gentle with her,” I say as I hand hi the saer”

“I knoill, Aces” The kid winks at me

This is a ga the keys over to someone you don’t even know It tears at the Rock City boy, but no one kno hard those wheels were to come by No one knows I’ away his trust fund and youth by playing cards, driving cars, and hanging at bars No one knows because they can’t see my tells I’ve buried those bitches deep, as deep as the e in my prized possession

As I watch the kid jump in my car, I see a smile on his face I know that motherfucker wants to burn rubber as sure as I knoanted to do the sa the first time I sat in her black leather seats And, fuck yes, I did it, but that rubber was paid for by me

His grip tightens on the wheel—his tell—but he won’t do a daoes and plays the ga someday to be a baller, just like me