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letra de 100 schemes - rome streetz & daringer

[verse 1: rome streetz]
ayo
history remembers kings, not soldiers (real sh-t)
when you great, they try to imitate and stand on your shoulders
don’t let these n-ggas f-ck you over in showbiz wit’ that “bro” sh-t
all i know is “pay me my dough” sh-t (sock it to my pocket!)
was a juvenile wit’ slow motion, no coachin’
plenty times was the culprit, now for shows i fly over oceans (uh-huh)
the coat cost a bentley coupe car note, the loafers
got “lv”s on the soles, the flow’s high voltage
third-eye focused like a isaac pelayo
life a gamble i rode, trip’ .45s, rise in pesos (uh-huh)
clothes and hoes, i chose the life
deep in the underworld, drug deals on the flip phone device
gotta be relentless, lately only take my own advice
i had to rise, made a couple pies outta that slice (we did)
rose further than man with the vision of the one with sight
the one with wisdom or the one with mic?
i saw the light

[chorus: rome streetz]
i got 100 schemes
to feed my hunger for more, i got a l-st for luxuries (i do)
way up on the score, of course bucks would f-ck with me
wore every face: the good, bad, and the ugly
i got 100 schemes (uh-huh, uh-huh)
to feed my hunger for more, i got a l-st for luxuries
way up on the score, of course bucks would f-ck with me (of course, n-gga)
wore every face: the good, bad, and the ugly
[verse 2: rome streetz]
ayo
they gonna push a fast car like a nascar star
blowin’ gas outta the window onto every yard
live fast, count dope cash, and eat caviar
my cousins take a blast outta the bag to show ’em it’s raw
lockjaw, pay me plenty benji’s when i drop off
turn the thousands in the sock drawer, let me fast forward
now i’m known more for k!llin’ sh-t wit’ no mask on
you bums run didn’t last long, that sh-t over wit’ (f-ck outta here)
smooth move, the goal legit and get dough from showmanship
now i’m on fire, every burner on the stove is lit
play ya cards right and get smoked for your poker chips (bow bow)
fully loaded like a cartel drug goat with bricks
the plug a crooked doctor, writin’ oxycodone scripts
loud n-ggas and quiet dough don’t mix (nah)
better to keep it low and do a doley hoe, i’m a soloist
anti-socialist with the glow, now i’m global lit
didn’t get a plate prepared for me, had to go to fish
caught a whale, had a feast, and now it’s plenty overage
ain’t no moves made without pay, this a brokerage
my brain operated the same way, whether broke or rich

- rome streetz daringer

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