Testo Chances - Polo G
Testo della canzone Chances (Polo G), tratta dall'album Hood Poet Black Heart Edition
(Ayy, Oz, give me a motherfuckin' painkiller)
(SlickDa3rd, that go crazy)
Try takin' my chain or watch, promise you I'ma be taking a mugshot
I'ma show you these slugs so hot, 4-0 with a long nose, don't blow snot
I used to come off the bench like a sixth man, now I'm prayin' for clutch shots
I just been writin' a list for my hitman, I can't wait to come shop
My killers don't feel sorry, we just gangbang and bust Glocks
Free smoke for anybody, like we ain't already made enough opps
Since kids, we played on rough blocks
It can only go one way when blood drop
We spend our days on rushed clocks
Shootouts and duckin' the cage and whatnot
(Grindin' like a slave for what I got like I still ain't made enough guap)
They finally gave us props, now I just get paid and fuck thots
She blew my mind, got good brain, swear I was amazed from her top
They've been plottin' on takin' my spot since the day my fame was unlocked
I was stuck at the bottom, could only imagine the place that I'm at with my view, Lord
But I charted up to the top, niggas better be ready to get up or scoot over
'Rari truck, I'm the new owner
Feel like I gotta get high when I'm too sober
Bondin' over murders what got me and my crew closer
That's the reason I feel like a true soldier
The type of decisions we makin', you don't get a do-over
Karma is a bitch who be waitin', I hate that I do know her
Only judgin' from things that you show us
Your life stay on high speed when you hang with a few vultures
But this cup full of lean what's makin' me move slower
I might pour a whole pint in my new soda
Change the score for the culture
Run up and dump on him, lackin', now you got a poster
We killin' whoever ridin', they in that black truck, then we gon' shoot at the chauffeur
Masked up like it's October
Hot seat, I'm in the back like Rosa
Head-taps when he catch two out the toaster
(Kill shit, what we do for our culture)
My killers don't feel sorry, we just gangbang and bust Glocks
Free smoke for anybody, like we ain't already made enough opps
Since kids, we played on rough blocks
It can only go one way when blood drop
We spend our days on rushed clocks
Shootouts and duckin' the cage and whatnot
(Grindin' like a slave for what I got like I still ain't made enough guap)
They finally gave us props, now I just get paid and fuck thots
She blew my mind, got good brain, swear I was amazed from her top
They've been plottin' on takin' my spot since the day my fame was unlocked
Credits
Writer(s): Taurus Bartlett, Daniel Anthony Ivy, Richard Stevenson Iii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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