Dead Man's Hand - Dark Trap | Gangster Night Drive Music

Dead Man's Hand by Cael Voss A smoke-choked backroom, four men around a table and every one of them carrying a secret heavier than the chips. The cards are just theater — the real game ended before the first hand was dealt. ── Lyrics ── Flickering bulb above the felt Five-card draw, nobody dealt fair Red on the ace, scar on the dealer's wrist Somebody lied first — I just kept the list Marcus slides the chips like he owns the prayer Gold tooth catching light, sweat beneath his hair Deon won't meet my eyes since Tuesday last Some debts don't live on paper — they outlast Ortega stacks a bluff behind a grin He needs this pot to cover what he's in And me — I got a two, a seven, nothing whole But I been reading faces since I learned to fold Every hand a mirror of what we became Nobody here is playing just a game The table knows the truth we never say That the man who wins tonight might not see day Dead man's hand on the table Two aces, two eights, and a lie We all came in like we were able But only one of us walks out alive Dead man's hand on the table The dealer's already gone cold inside We ain't gamblers, we're just fables Written in the smoke before we die Third round in, Deon throws his cards down hard Says someone marked the deck — points toward the yard Ortega laughs but his jaw went tight and stiff Marcus pours another drink, three fingers thick I count the exits — door, the window, back of mind I been mapping every room since nineteen-ninety-nine The pot is forty thousand and a name Someone at this table called it — who to blame Every hand a mirror of what we became Nobody here is playing just a game The table knows the truth we never say That the man who wins tonight might not see day Dead man's hand on the table Two aces, two eights, and a lie We all came in like we were able But only one of us walks out alive Dead man's hand on the table The dealer's already gone cold inside We ain't gamblers, we're just fables Written in the smoke before we die I see his face when I close my eyes at three The one who sat where Ortega sits, that used to be We called it fair, we called it what he owed I held the door, I never told a soul But guilt don't fold, it reraises every night Deals itself back in beneath the fluorescent light I won that hand — I've been losing ever since Some victories cost more than any evidence Dead man's hand — I'm the one still holding it Dead man's hand on the table Two aces, two eights, and a lie We all came in like we were able But only one of us walks out alive Dead man's hand on the table The dealer's already gone cold inside We ain't gamblers, we're just fables Writte #darktrap #grittystreettrap #menacing808bass #punchytraphihats #ominousdarksynths #lushcinematicorchestralstrings #midtempo82bpm #nocturnal #rawgrittyconfidentmalevocal #streetwisecommanding