Marathon or Race Lyrics – Rome Streetz
“Marathon or Race” is an aggressive hip hop song featuring Rome Streetz and Westside Gunn. This piece is characterized by the use of lyrics and beats that convey messages about patience, aspirations, and perseverance. Success is gained through patience and not any other means according to the artiste. The song was released on July 17, 2026, and the lyrics of the song were written by Rome Streetz, Westside Gunn, and Denny Laflare. Rome Streetz composed the song.

Marathon or Race Song Info
| Song Infoformation | Details |
|---|---|
| Singer(s) | Rome Streetz, Westside Gunn |
| Composer(s) | Rome Streetz |
| Lyricist(s) | Rome Streetz, Westside Gunn, Denny Laflare |
| Release Date | July 17, 2026 |
| Language | English |
Marathon or Race Song Lyrics
You know what the fuck it is
Yo
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 ammonia 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)
Brrt
(Super FLYGOD)
Ayo
Prada stains on the Willy Chava’ (Ah), 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
Lick 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 Co-Ds, 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)
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