Young Chris - Art & Life (Chi-Roc) lyrics

Yeah, Young Chris, M-eez My n***a Free-Wheez The boy Twista, holla My life on the track Up and comin' State Prop Chain gang, get low It's the Roc, building, n***a Yeah, it's the motherf**in' Roc, b**h Who hotter than us? Okay, okay Aiyo, ever 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' n***as '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 n***as, 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 his 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 life, dogg I never think, it's already there I find ways to say it so you motherf**ers hear 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 real, n***a I'm sh**tin' 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**'ll get real Automatics and extended clips that's what I'm hittin' wit' Dummies in the black rhinos, yeah, they be k**in' sh** Masked up kidnap sh** that's how my n***as get Chi-town, NYC that's how my n***as 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 n***as finally made it I swoop five, he know to ride, heavily loaded Deliver pies like cake, they go straight through yo payment 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 4 4 in the 5th tucked y'all 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 and split a clip in the rain A fool proof 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 and paint portraits For real n***as 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 you clean up your house Bag up an ounce, hit the dance floor and bounce We blessed wit' the talent, f** wit this clique It ain't gon' be easy 'cause you f**in' wit' Twist If you f** 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 k**ers and hustler's Flippin' all the pounds and bricks Hate on me, I'ma bust at you hoes And I put eleven down wit' a clip n***as 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 sh**