Marathon or Race versuri

Versuri Rome Streetz & Westside Gunn – Marathon or Race lyrics

[Intro: Rome Streetz]
Griselda by Fashion Rebels
You know what the fuck it is
Yo

[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]
Feel a rush when we touch papes (Uh-huh)
Copped drugs, opened up duct tape, my aim’s to fill up safe
My nigga just came home from upstate (Yeah)
Next stop is top of the world like Brandy and Mase
Ferraris to race, the mule and the forty-acre plays (Uh-huh)
Still with a trap phone ringin’, they used to call for base (What?)
Cuddies in the hall, saw it all, knew it was more to chase
Tell me how you view this shit, a marathon or a race? (What?)
No comparison to my pace, I’m still lappin’ niggas
Dumb thinkin’ we neck and nеck, they only seein’ half the picture
Thе other half of the Kodak Black
Tunnel vision what they lack, that’s why we ain’t never interact (Never)
Old-school shit, put a little pneumonia in the crack
Different kind of batch, when I rap, it’s like Cinemax
Songs from a sinner, few regrets, I gotta live with that
Pour the gas, lit the match, now it’s all flames
I’m Ghost Rider speedin’ in the lanes, swingin’ chains
You niggas is small change, the biker jacket is Balmain (Uh)
This the eight ball in the corner pocket, I call game
Pull out your cord, fall on your sword, absorin’ all game (Yeah)
I’m a lord, you a fuckin’ stain
Get knocked off like dark-skin Jermaine, no need to explain (Bow-bow)

[Interlude: Westside Gunn]
Brrt
Super FLYGOD
Ayo

[Verse 2: Westside Gunn]
Prada stains on the Willy Chava’, phones is liver (Ah)
Meet me at the Ritz in a half an hour
If the money ain’t all there, then shoot his ass (Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom)
I came through, .40 cal in a lucha mask (Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom)
Same shit from Rey Mysterio versus the Big Show
Jaden Smith melt the Louboutins on my big toe
Lurk up by the liquor store and wait for my signal
If he gotta go, we gotta— (Mm)
You outta pocket, get your shit lopsided (Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom)
Eastside Buffalo niggas all violent (Brrt, doot-doot-doot-doot)
Pray for your codies, niggas stay silent (Ah)
Gas stoves tickin’, lit the pilot for the malice (Woo)
I was up in USP in designer (Ah)
055, in my cell eatin’ lasagna (Mm)
I know you know your whole clique vagina (Ah)
I know you know (I know you know)

[Outro: Westside Gunn]
You know what I’m sayin’? I just feel like, you know, nobody can fuck with me
So, but like Rome, incredible artist
Incredible, this is just the beginnin’ with him