Twista Feat.Freeway Art & Life (Chi-Roc) Lyrics

[Intro: Young Chris]

Yeah...
Young Chris, M-E's, Free-Wheez... Tha boy Twista...
Holla...

My life on tha track... (Okay...),
Up and comin'... State Prop...
Check game... (That's right...),
Get low... (Get low...),

It's tha Roc...
Better than ever (Holla)...
Yeah...

It's tha m_________in' Roc b____, you hotter than us?

(Okay, okay)

[Young Chris]
Ever since a young buck, I been on tha come up,
Known to dish tha raw, dish tha law if they come up,
And cheddar 'till tha sun up...
If there's a ransom and tha 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' n____s 'round tha corner from 'round me,
You can front 'round me, but I read through that,
Wit' tha mili' and I ain't talkin' 'bout no Segal mac,
n____s 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 friends spot, 'till he's mom
wanted my Tim-bots,
Now my paint got me discounts, or trans-quo all around tha
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 hit nine out of them ten shot...

[Memphis Bleek]
I got my mind on my money, money on mind,
But some say its 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 life dogg, I never think,
it's already there,
I find ways to say-it, so you m_________ers hear-it,
And when you hear it you feel it, you know its real (so...),
This is how I live it, how its pictured for real, (n____...),
I'm s___tin for real...
Diamonds against wood, underground king for real,
Big crib when I lay, yeah I'm livin' for real,
Trust me tha guns come off tha shelf whenever s___'ll get
real,
Automatics and tha extended clips, that's what I'm hittin'
wit',
Dummies in tha black rhinoes,
(Yeah...) They be killin' s___,
Mask up kidnap s___, that's how my n____s get,
Chi-town, NYC, that's how my n____s get...

[Freeway]
Yes, just picture me rollin',
Tha smith and wesson'll stay goin' put a hole in yo chest,
It's just, another hustle paper gettin' made and fold ya,
Mad, you street n____s finally made it,
I swoop five, he know tha ride, heavily loaded,
Deliver pies like cake, they go straight through yo payment,
(Yup...),
Chump... You don't really wanna war,
With tha State Prop clique, if ya clique shot us, (Why
us...?),
S-P game so d___ tough, tha 4 4 in tha 5th tucked ya'll cant
hang,
Transporter turned rapper, get a can for to fill my life,
Still acclompished, wanna fill they cups?
Tha rap version of Mandela call my bluff,
Well still tha street dwellers feel my pain (My pain...),
I spit a verse and split a clip in tha rain,
A fool-proof when tha full force open you (What...?),

[Twista]
Twista will rock you, you don't want tha 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
portraits,
For real n____s that hold down they fortress and serve off of
porches,
Hit 'em in tha body wit' tha powerful forces, that'll end all
your data,
Make you clean up your house, bag up an ounce, hit tha dance
floor and bounce,
We blessed wit' tha talent, f___ wit this clique, it ain't gon'
be easy,
'Cuz you f___in' wit' Twist if you f___ wit Chris, Bleek and
Free-wheezy,
So speak and breath easy... Or to shoot ya's my future in 3D,
I like w____'s, I'm from a city full of Vice Lords, and GD's,
Breeds, and Souls, 2-6's, Kings, VD's and Stones,
Spanish cobras and all tha true soldiers survivin' are gone,
Watch me spit if for tha killers and hustler's, flippin' all tha
pounds and bricks,
Hate on me I'ma bust at you hoes, and I put eleven down wit' a
clip,
n____s 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 s___