Prompt / Lyrics
[Intro] Backblock babies Raised in the sirens and smoke You feel that? (let’s go) [Verse 1] My brother and I Ran through the boroughs like storms Hoodie up Eyes cold, hearts torn Hard time, hard life Every corner was a war We were sleeping in our sneakers Dreams tucked in the drawer He was bagging up the stress Turned it all into a stack You were begging for attention We were begging for it back He was counting every dollar You were counting every like He was building us a future Out the ruins of the night [Chorus] My brother stacking paper Bigger than your girl’s ego We came from the gutter Turned the pain into a cheat code Hard time, hard life Now it’s time to fuckin shine If you standing in our way Then you crossing that line My brother stacking paper Bigger than your girl’s ego We were starving for a win Now we feast, that’s the lingo Hard time, hard life Now it’s time to fuckin shine If you riding with my blood Then you riding with mine (let’s go) [Verse 2] We were out in New York streets Causing chaos, causing fear You were crying in the comments We were wiping off the tears He was flipping every loss Like a switch in his brain Put the hunger in a duffel Built a kingdom from the pain You was flexing on the ‘Gram We were flexing for the rent He was turning every cent To another monument So when you talk about respect Better mention both our names Two wolves, one check We engrave it in the flames [Chorus] My brother stacking paper Bigger than your girl’s ego We came from the gutter Turned the pain into a cheat code Hard time, hard life Now it’s time to fuckin shine If you standing in our way Then you crossing that line My brother stacking paper Bigger than your girl’s ego We were starving for a win Now we feast, that’s the lingo Hard time, hard life Now it’s time to fuckin shine If you riding with my blood Then you riding with mine (yeah, let’s go)
Tags
rap, Aggressive New York drill-leaning beat, heavy distorted 808s and rattling hi-hats. Male vocals, raw and upfront with slight saturation. Verses spit in a tight, relentless pocket; hook explodes with chant-style gang vocals and crowd shouts. Sparse, menacing piano stabs and sub drops to accent punchlines, last chorus widens with layered ad-libs and echo throws.
Duration
2:15
Instrumental
No
Created
2/10/2026