Polo G is cranking up the Chicago grit with HOOD POET: Black Heart Edition, his deluxe expansion hitting December 19 on Columbia Records, and Chances rolls out Tuesday as that tense street prayer—two verses slicing through the risks we all chase, clocking in at a sharp 2:46.
This cut, out with a video just days ago, is Polo channeling that North Side Chicago frostbite into trap’s molten core: SlickDa3rd and Oz On The Track lace brooding piano loops with snarling 808s, letting his measured flow build from confessional whispers to full-throated warnings. It’s melodic drill laced with emo-rap vulnerability—think the urgency of “RAPSTAR” but hardened by hindsight, where slugs and slumps paint a survivor’s ledger. Thematically, it’s a high-wire act on the perils of the glow-up: killers clocking no remorse, opps stacking like unpaid debts, and that slave-grind haze where props finally land but paranoia’s the real payout. Polo’s not romanticizing the rough blocks; he’s autopsy-ing them, flipping benchwarmer prayers into clutch-shot manifestos, all while dodging the vultures circling his unlocked spot.
As track five on the 22-song deluxe, Chances slots into a lineup that’s all about unfiltered hood tales with a darker twist. The Black Heart Edition builds on last year’s original HOOD POET, amping the emotional rawness—kicking off with the unreleased “Pain Killerz,” sliding through revisits like “Move Wrong” and “Hardbody (V2),” then hitting collabs such as G Herbo on “Gangsta Graduation” and a posthumous King Von link on “95 Bulls.” Standouts tease survival anthems (“If I Gat To”), reflective cuts (“Lost My Friend”), and heaters like “Shoot It Off,” all weaving that poetic thread on pain, pride, and perseverance. It’s Polo honoring his roots while pushing the sound forward, mixing solo confessions with features from VonOff1700 and more Chicago heavyweights. Official teasers dropped on his Insta last week, with snippet clips already sparking debates in the comments. Fans can pre-save the full thing on Spotify to lock in the tracklist and drop alerts as they roll out.
Polo’s in a reflective gear these days, a year after the original HOOD POET redefined his lane with over a billion streams and sold-out runs. The guy’s gone from teenage breakout with “Finer Things” to this seasoned storyteller, folding in lessons from the road—legal battles, family shifts, that relentless grind—into bars that hit like therapy. This edition feels like him reclaiming the pen, trading some polish for punch, proving Chicago’s voice stays loud when it needs to.
Dive into the Chances lyrics below and unpack its raw narrative. Don’t miss other HOOD POET: Black Heart Edition tracks for more of Polo G’s street-sharp poetry.
Lyrics of Chances by Polo G
[Intro]
(Ayy Oz, Give Me A Motherf**kin’ Painkiller)
(Slickda3Rd, It Go Crazy)
Try Taking My Chain Or Watch, Promise You, I’ma Be Taking A Mugshot
I’ma Show You These Slugs So Hot, .40 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 Writing The 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’ve Played On Rough Blocks, It Can Only Go One Way When Blood Drop
We Spend Our Days On Rush Clocks, Shootouts, And Ducking The Cage, And What Not
(Grinding 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 F**k Thots
She Blew My Mind, Got Good Brain, So I Was Amazed From Her Top
They‘Ve Been Plotting On Takin’ My Spot, Since The Day My Fame Was Unlocked
I Was Stuck At The Bottom
Could Only Imagine A 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
Rarri 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 B**ch If We Waitin’, I Hate That I Do Know Her
Only Judging 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 Making 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 Killing 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)
[Chorus]
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’ve Played On Rough Blocks, It Can Only Go One Way When Blood Drop
We Spend Our Days On Rush Clocks, Shootouts, And Ducking The Cage, And What Not
(Grinding 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 F**k Thots
She Blew My Mind, Got Good Brain, So I Was Amazed From Her Top
They‘Ve Been Plotting On Takin’ My Spot, Since The Day My Fame Was Unlocked
Frequently Asked Questions
