Art & Life(Chi-Roc) (Explicit Album Version)-Twista/Memphis Bleek/Young Chris/Freeway

Twista - Art & Life (Chi-Roc) (Feat. Memphis Bleek, Young Chris & Freeway) (Explicit Album Version) Yeah, Young Chris, M Eez, my ni**a Free Wheez The boy, Twista, holla, my life on the track, okay Up an' comin', State Prop Chain gang, that's right Get low, it's the Roc in the building, ni**a, holla It's the motherf**kin' Roc, b**ch, who hotter than us? Okay, okay Ayo, ever since a young buck, I been on the come up Known to dish the raw, dish the law if they come up An' cheddar 'till the sun up, if there's a ransom An' the law get involved, then we never get it summed up Never put ya gun up, ya come round me I go to war wit' niggaz 'round the corner from 'round me You could front 'round me, but I read through that Wit' the mili an' I ain't talkin' 'bout no Segal mac Niggaz, see, shoot back, we can see to that Hit yo front letters see through back, bring yo peoples back An' 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 An' if it's ten targets an' 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 my 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 be flo' all my life, dog I never think, it's already there I find ways to say it, so you motherf**kers hear it An' when you hear it, you feel it, you know it's real So this is how I live it, how it's pictured for real, ni**a 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 sh*t'll get real Automatics an' extended clips, that's what I'm hittin' wit' Dummies in the black rhinos, yeah, they be killin' sh*t Masked up, kidnap sh*t, that's how my niggaz get Chi town, NYC, that's how my niggaz get Yes, just picture me rollin' The Smith an' Wesson'll stay goin', put a hole in yo' chest It's just another hustle paper gettin' made an' fold Get mad, you street niggaz finally made it I swoop five, he know the ride, heavily loaded Deliver pies like cake, they go straight through yo payment Yup, chump, you don't really wanna war With the State Prop clique, if ya clique shot us, squad up S.P. game so damn tough The fo' fo' in the 5th tucked ya'll can't hang Transporter turned rapper, get a camcorder, film my life Still accomplished, tryin' to fill they cups The rap version of Mandela, call my bluff We still the street dwellers, feel my pain I spit a verse an' split a clip in the rain A foolproof when the full force open you up Twista will rock you, you don't want the thug apostle to pop you Hostile when I drop you, turnin' everything colossal to fossils I speak street gospel, all they life I spit words an' paint portraits For real niggaz that hold down they fortress an' serve off of porches Hit 'em in the body wit' the powerful forces, that'll end all your doubt Make you clean up your house, bag up an ounce Hit the dance floor an' bounce We blessed wit' the talent, f**k wit this clique, it ain't gon' be easy 'Cause you f**kin' wit' Twist if you f**k wit Chris Bleek an' Free Wheezy So speak an' breath easy or the scutches my future in 3D I like wars, I'm from a city full of Vice Lords an' GDs Breeds an' Souls, two sixes, Kings, BD's an' Stones Spanish cobras an' all the true soldiers, survive an' I'm gone Watch me spit if for the killers an' hustlers Flippin' all the pounds an' bricks Hate on me, I'ma bust at you hoes an' I put eleven down wit' a clip Niggaz servin' fiftys an' hundreds, when I see you an' I'm on yo tip Twista an' this East Coast regime, it's that Chi Roc sh*t