Lyrics Champions - Kanye West, Gucci Mane, Big Sean

Champions - Kanye West, Gucci Mane, Big Sean
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Champions, artist - Kanye West.
Date of issue: 09.06.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English

Champions

Quavo!
Lifestyle on camera,
Hundred thousand dollar chandelier,
They tried to turn me to an animal,
But white people think I'm radical.
Supermodels think I'm handsome,
You might think I'm too aggressive,
But really I think I'm too passive
Till I pull out the chopper, start blastin.
1500, all in singles, straight up!
Throw it up, watch it fall and drop.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Pray for me,
I'm about to hit the Ye button,
I don't wanna say nothing wrong
But it'd be wrong if I ain't say nothing.
Imagine if I ain't say something,
Wouldn't none these niggas say nothing,
I done lost and made money,
Now I'm makin' something they can't take from me.
Now I'm fresh out of debt in this mothafucka!
And they still ain't ready yet for a mothafucka!
Yeezy might have to go and put his Louis on,
I'm 'bout to go Gucci in the Gucci store.
Fresh out the feds in this mothafucka!
And they still ain't ready yet for a mothafucka!
Gucci Mane and I'm bout to put my Yeezys on,
Now that Gucci's home, it's over for you Gucci clones!
1500, all in singles, straight up!
Throw it up, watch it fall and drop.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Champions, we run the city,
Number one, they fallin' from the top.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Look, I say a prayer for my enemies,
They cannot slow down what's meant for me,
Funny how they come around like I can't see through their secret identities.
Lately it's all about Zen and me,
Subtractin' the negative energy
With the family turn your ass to a memory,
My niggas team of the century.
I blow the check up, nigga, detonation,
Kill 'em one by one, Final Destination,
Time my destination,
I got guardian angels all around a nigga, that's deflectin' Satan,
I'm a mothafuckin' champion,
This right here the fuckin' anthem,
I can't dap you without hand san',
I don't know where your dirty ass hands been.
I wake up to like a hundred texts,
Championship team, but we can't cut the net,
She all off in my jersey lookin' underdressed,
I'm finna buy this bitch a Honda CRX
With 1500.
1500, all in singles, straight up!
Throw it up, watch it fall and drop.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go, round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Rather be trappin' up out of the bowl
Then to get down with a ho.
I took a nap in the pulpit,
I never like how a suit fit,
I got a pocket full of money,
It got me walkin' all slew-foot.
I'm on my wave like a cruise ship,
In that hoe's mouth like a toothpick,
Anyone get in my way,
Nothing to say, I tote them choppas like pool sticks.
I wear pajamas to Ruth's Chris,
Couldn't walk a mile in my new kicks,
I come and find your apartments,
We never had our damn pool fixed.
Walk in the mall with my new bitch,
Tell her to get the whole rack,
My new bitch gon' pull me a new bitch,
Then pull me a new bitch,
See, that is a snowball effect.
I got gold on my neck,
Lookin' like a Super Bowl on my neck,
I got a mansion full of marble floors,
It look like I could go bowl in this bitch,
Versace nigga got hoes in this bitch,
Like I'm a serial killer,
I put the real in gorilla,
I did this shit for my niggas.
1500, all in singles, straight up!
Throw it up, watch it fall and drop.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go, round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Rather be trappin' up out of the bowl
Then to get down with a ho.
Champions, we run the city,
Number one, they fallin' from the top.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go, round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Rather be trappin' up out of the bowl
Then to get down with a ho.
I'm Yo Gotti!
Reach for my chain is suicide,
The car I drive fit two inside,
They mad at Ye ‘cause he all in the neighborhood
But he let them goons inside.
Let's fuck up the neighborhood!
Let's fuck up the neighborhood!
Buy every house in this bitch,
You know that the money good.
My racks in the kitchen go round and round,
Play with the key, and Imma gun you down,
The roof on that Wraith in the lost and found,
Official trapper let me show it down.
More shit than a Pamper,
All we rock is bandanas,
Whips so nasty, no manners,
I just got head in a Phantom.
She say she don't want a chump, baby want a champ,
She say money make her cum, Gucci make her damp,
1017's the Squad, Gucci Mane's the stamp,
And he don't ever sleep, he's a fuckin' vamp.
I heard your bitch ride on the bus, you don't give a damn,
My bitch drive a Lamb', you should call her ma'am.
I love my Auntie Jean, but fuck Uncle Sam!
I'm a walkin' money machine, check my Instagram.
Niggas never test the kid so I don't have to cram,
My city treat me like a king, I should wear a crown,
And I don't really fuck around,
I gave my bitch two mil' ‘cause she stuck around.
1500, all in singles, straight up!
Throw it up, watch it fall and drop.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go, round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Rather be trappin' up out of the bowl
Then to get down with a ho.
Champions, we run the city,
Number one, they fallin' from the top.
Round and round they go,
Round and round they go, round and round they go,
Round and round they go.
Rather be trappin' up out of the bowl
Then to get down with a ho.

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Artist lyrics: Kanye West
Artist lyrics: Gucci Mane
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