[Intro: Ty Farris]
Yeah
Rome, my n***a, what up?
We conditioned to do shit like this
Check it, yo

[Verse 1: Ty Farris]
Rap cool, dirty money in my denim jeans
Side chick half-black and Philippine, I sip my Cognac while she hit the weed
Drunk n***a talkin', left his shirt the color of Grenadine
Me and Rome swingin' at your face like a tennis team
Deliver death in deuces
The game been wack for years, we hear for restitution, mumble rap executions
Next in nooses if you ever disrеspect the movemеnt
It's clear to see we the best to do this
Polo match my own hat, independent with the merch
Naked women cookin' chicken in the kitchen while I work
Each verse is fifty grams of gold
Goin' hard 'til my house paid for and the land is owned, once was a damnin' soul
You talk tough on the wax until your candle's blown
I'm at your home, your ho in half her clothes, showin' cameltoe
Was the underdog, not favored by the favors
Been dope since we was scrapin' razors for the paper, n***a

[Chorus: Ty Farris and Rome Streetz]
Two rebels with guns who got a problem
I promise we plottin' to make a profit
Losin' ain't an option where we come from
Since some young guns, we hustle hard and we got the paper
Two rebels with guns who got a problem
I promise we plottin' to make a profit
Losin' ain't an option where we come from
Since some young guns, we hustle hard and we got the paper (Uh, ayo)
[Verse 2: Rome Streetz]
Aim it at your face and send you straight to your maker
You motherfuckers miniscule, this shit, I make major
I been blazin' like a old dreadhead in Jamaica
Fuck this ghetto shit, I need a plush place in Asia
Haze by the acre, soon to be the all-time great
Your tape a weed plate, can't fuck with the shit I make
Was blinded by the lights of the glamour life, now I see straight
Aim to get the paper and stack it all like a cheapskate
Plot to have a spot in each state like Domino's
Sellin' pies, know to 'vide your mind, then I vámonos
Handshakes of snakes and pig lovers, we don't honor those
No respect for snitches and n***as who don't abide the code
There's rules we abide by to be a wise guy
Stay on point and put the bread over the beef like Five Guys
Me and Ty slide you n***as like Benny and Li'l Dice
You food, so you get hit with the kitchen knife, n***a

[Chorus: Ty Farris]
Two rebels with guns who got a problem
I promise we plottin' to make a profit
Losin' ain't an option where we come from
Since some young guns, we hustle hard and we got the paper
Two rebels with guns who got a problem
I promise we plottin' to make a profit
Losin' ain't an option where we come from
Since some young guns, we hustle hard and we got the paper