Art & Life

[Intro: Young Chris]<br>Yeah..<br>Young Chris, M-eez, my nigga Free-Wheez<br>The boy Twista<br>Holla<br><br>My life on the track (Okay)<br>Up and comin`<br>State Prop Chain gang (That`s right)<br>Get low (Get low)<br><br>It`s the Roc in the building nigga<br>(Holla...Yeah)<br>It`s the motherfuckin` Roc bitch, who hotter than us?<br>(Okay, okay)<br><br>[Young Chris]<br>Ayo..ever since a young buck, I been on the come up<br>Known to dish the raw, dish the law if they come up<br>And cheddar `till the sun up..<br>If there`s a ransom and the law get involved, then we never get it summed up<br>Never put ya gun up, if ya come round me<br>I go to war wit` niggaz `round the corner from `round me<br>You could front `round me, but I read through that<br>Wit` the mili` and I ain`t talkin` `bout no Segal mac<br>Niggaz see shoot back, we can see to that<br>Hit yo front letters see through back, bring yo peoples back<br>And I used to grind out on my friend`s spot<br>`til he`s mom wanted my Tim-bots<br>Now my paint got me discounts<br>Or trans-quo all around the world, like I was signed to Pimp-dot<br>And if it`s ten targets and I got ten shots<br>I`m tryin` to leave at least nine out of them ten shot..<br><br>[Memphis Bleek]<br>I got my mind on my money, money on mind<br>But some say its a gift, I don`t write but I rhyme<br>I, complete songs with just one try<br>Tell `em it`s no lie, I beef all my life...dogg<br>I never think, it`s already there<br>I find ways to say it, so you motherfuckers hear it<br>And when you hear it you feel it, you know its real so<br>This is how I live it, how it`s pictured for real...nigga<br>I`m shittin` for real<br>Diamonds against wood, underground king for real<br>Big crib when I lay, yeah I`m livin` for real<br>Trust me the guns come off the shelf whenever shit`ll get real<br>Automatics and extended clips, that`s what I`m hittin` wit`<br>Dummies in the black rhinoes<br>Yeah, they be killin` shit<br>Masked up kidnap shit, that`s how my niggaz get<br>Chi-town, NYC, that`s how my niggaz get..<br><br>[Freeway]<br>Yes, just picture me rollin`<br>The smith and wesson`ll stay goin` put a hole in yo chest<br>It`s just, another hustle paper gettin` made and fold<br>Get mad, you street niggaz finally made it<br>I swoop five, he know the ride, heavily loaded<br>Deliver pies like cake, they go straight through yo payment...yup!<br>Chump...you don`t really wanna war<br>With the State Prop clique, if ya clique shot us, squad up<br>S-P game so damn tough, the 4 4 in the 5th tucked ya`ll can`t hang<br>Transporter turned rapper, get a camcorder film my life<br>Still acclompished, tryin` to fill they cups<br>The rap version of Mandela, call my bluff<br>We still the street dwellers, feel my pain (my pain)<br>I spit a verse and split a clip in the rain<br>A fool-proof when the full force open you up (what!)<br><br>[Twista]<br>Twista will rock you, you don`t want the thug apostle to pop you<br>Hostile when I drop you, turnin` everything colossal to fossiles<br>I speak street gospel, all they life I spit words and paint portraits<br>For real niggaz that hold down they fortress and serve off of porches<br>Hit `em in the body wit` the powerful forces, that`ll end all your doubt<br>Make you clean up your house, bag up an ounce, hit the dance floor and bounce<br>We blessed wit` the talent, fuck wit this clique, it ain`t gon` be easy<br>`Cause you fuckin` wit` Twist if you fuck wit Chris, Bleek and Free-wheezy<br>So speak and breath easy... Or the scutches my future in 3D<br>I like wars, I`m from a city full of Vice Lords, and GD`s<br>Breeds and Souls, 2-6`s, Kings, BD`s and Stones<br>Spanish cobras and all the true soldiers, survive and I`m gone!<br>Watch me spit if for the killers and hustler`s, flippin` all the pounds and bricks<br>Hate on me I`ma bust at you hoes, and I put eleven down wit` a clip<br>Niggaz servin` fiftys and hundreds, when I see you and I`m on yo tip<br>Twista and this East-Coast regime, it`s that chi-roc shit