Art & Life (Chi-Roc) lyrics

Song information

Artist: Twista
Album: Kamikaze

Lyrics

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 motherfuckin' roc bitch, 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 they son up
Never put ya gun up, if ya come round me
I go to war wit' niggas '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
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 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 be flowin all my life dogg, 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 its real (so...)
This is how I live it, how its pictured for real, (nigga...)
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 tha guns come off tha shelf whenever shit'll get real
Automatics and tha extended clips, that's what I'm hittin' wit'
Dummies in tha black rhinoes
(Yeah...) they be killin' shit
Mask up kidnap shit, that's how my niggas get
Chi-town, nyc, that's how my niggas 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 niggas 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 damn 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 niggas 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, fuck wit this clique, it ain't gon' be easy
'Cuz you fuckin' wit' twist if you fuck wit chris, bleek and free-wheezy
So speak and breath easy... or tha scutche's my future in 3d
I like whore's, I'm from a city full of vicelords, and gd's
Breedz and souls, 2-6's, kings, bd'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
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