Baby Money - Chances Make Champions lyrics
Baby Money [Carlos Deshawn Fischer] Detroit, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Baby Money - Chances Make Champions lyrics]
You gon' bleed next
Talking tough, you gon' bleed next
I'm talking big shit, BS
Go, go, go
I know you miss your best friend, you gon' bleed next
I'm talking big shit, you hear me saying BS
You can't do no fake shit and wanna be blessed
You tryna make it through the summer, here go three steps
Rule number one, keep a gun, fuck the fun
Rule number two, fuck the fun, keep a gun
Rule number three, never run, you gotta gun
Keep two clips just in case you drop one
Nigga, leave 'em wet, she took my soul, I needed that
Birds in the crib, every man need a pet
Money show itself, nigga, I don't need to flex
I treat 'em like queens, I got a bitch from BX
A white t-shirt, that bitch a 3X
Ninety thousand cash, but the pros was thirty racks
Bro charged me twenty, took the risk to get it back
I stretched it out using my son's Similac
I'm fucked up
I been catching crazy plays, I lucked up
She said her man goin' to school to be a cop, she cuffed up
The broke niggas be the loudest, this 'bout money, hush up
If you can't up a dollar right now, shut the fuck up
Chances make champions, champions, they took chances
Real trap spots, these houses look abandoned
More drums than the band did, they can't stand it
Easy money international, I got my fans lit
Watch me take a nigga bitch without sayin' shit
Watch me sell the whole bag that I land with
Watch he hide from the smoke and get his mans hit
Yeah, I knew I'd be rich, shit, I planned it
Talking tough, you gon' bleed next
I'm talking big shit, BS
Go, go, go
I know you miss your best friend, you gon' bleed next
I'm talking big shit, you hear me saying BS
You can't do no fake shit and wanna be blessed
You tryna make it through the summer, here go three steps
Rule number one, keep a gun, fuck the fun
Rule number two, fuck the fun, keep a gun
Rule number three, never run, you gotta gun
Keep two clips just in case you drop one
Nigga, leave 'em wet, she took my soul, I needed that
Birds in the crib, every man need a pet
Money show itself, nigga, I don't need to flex
I treat 'em like queens, I got a bitch from BX
A white t-shirt, that bitch a 3X
Ninety thousand cash, but the pros was thirty racks
Bro charged me twenty, took the risk to get it back
I stretched it out using my son's Similac
I'm fucked up
I been catching crazy plays, I lucked up
She said her man goin' to school to be a cop, she cuffed up
The broke niggas be the loudest, this 'bout money, hush up
If you can't up a dollar right now, shut the fuck up
Chances make champions, champions, they took chances
Real trap spots, these houses look abandoned
More drums than the band did, they can't stand it
Easy money international, I got my fans lit
Watch me take a nigga bitch without sayin' shit
Watch me sell the whole bag that I land with
Watch he hide from the smoke and get his mans hit
Yeah, I knew I'd be rich, shit, I planned it
