Twista, Young Chris, Freeway - Art & Life (Chi-Roc) lyrics

Yeah young Chris, M-eez, my nigga Free Wheez
The boy Twista holla

My life on the track (Okay) up and comin'
State Prop Chain gang (That's right)
Get low (Get low)
It's the Roc in the building nigga
(Hollayeah)
It's the motherfuckin' Roc bitch
Who hotter than us? (Okay, okay)

Ayoever since a young buck
I been on the come up known to dish the raw
Dish the law if they come up
And cheddar 'till the sun up
If there's a ransom and the law get involved
Then we never get it summed up
Never put ya gun up, if ya come round me
I go to war wit' niggas 'round
The corner from 'round me
You could front 'round me


But, I read through that
Wit' the mili' and I ain't
Talkin' 'bout no Segal mac
Niggas see shoot back, we can see to that
Hit yo front letters see through back
Bring yo peoples back
And I used to grind out on my friend's spot
'til he's mom wanted my Tim-bots
Now my paint got me discounts
Or trans-quo all around the world
Like I was signed to Pimp dot
And if it's ten targets and I got ten shots
I'm tryin' to leave at least nine
Out of them ten shot

I got my mind on my money, money on mind
But some say it's a gift
I don't write but I rhyme
I, complete songs with just one try
Tell 'em it's no lie, I beef all my lifedogg
I never think, it's already there
I find ways to say it
So you motherfuckers hear it
And when you hear it you feel it
You know it's real so this is how I live it
How it's pictured for realnigga
I'm shittin' for real diamonds against wood
Underground king for real
Big crib when I lay, yeah I'm livin' for real
Trust me the guns come off the
Shelf whenever shit'll get real
Automatics and extended clips
That's what I'm hittin' wit'
Dummies in the black rhinoes
Yeah, they be killin' shit
Masked up kidnap shit
That's how my niggas get
Chi-town, NYC, that's how my niggas get

Yes, just picture me rollin'
The smith and wesson'll stay goin' put
A hole in yo chest it's just
Another hustle paper gettin' made and fold
Get mad, you street niggas finally made it
I swoop five, he know the ride
Heavily loaded deliver pies like cake
They go straight through yo paymentyup!
Chumpyou don't really wanna war
With the State Prop clique, if
Ya clique shot us, squad up
S-P game so damn tough
The 4 4 in the 5th tucked ya'll can't hang
Transporter turned rapper
Get a camcorder film my life
Still acclompished, tryin' to fill they cups
The rap version of Mandela, call my bluff
We still the street dwellers, feel my pain
(my pain)
I spit a verse and split a clip in the rain
A fool-proof when the full force open you up
(what)

Twista will rock you
You don't want the thug apostle to pop you
Hostile when I drop you
Turnin' everything colossal to fossiles
I speak street gospel, all they life I spit
Words and paint portrait's
For real niggas that hold down they
Fortress and serve off of porches
Hit 'em in the body wit' the powerful forces
That'll end all your doubt
Make 'em clean up your house
Bag up an ounce
Hit the dance floor and bounce
We blessed wit' the talent
Fuck wit this clique, it ain't gon' be easy
Cause you fuckin' wit' Twist if
You fuck wit Chris, bleek and Free-wheezy
So speak and breath easy or the
Scutches my future in 3D
I like wars, I'm from a
City full of Vice Lords, and GD's
Breeds and Souls, 2-6's, Kings
BD's and Stones
Spanish cobras and all the true soldiers
Survive and I'm gone! Watch me spit if for
The killers and hustler's
Flippin' all the pounds and bricks
Hate on me I'mma bust at you hoes
And I put eleven down wit' a clip
Niggas servin' fiftys and hundreds
When I see you and I'm on yo tip
Twista and this East-Coast regime
It's that chi-roc shit