Twista Art And Life Lyrics

Art And Life Lyrics

Yeah, Young Chris, M Eez, my nigga 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, nigga, holla

It's the motherfuckin' Roc, bitch, 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 motherfuckers 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, 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, the guns come off the shelf whenever shit'll get real



Automatics an' extended clips, that's what I'm hittin' wit'

Dummies in the black rhinos, yeah, they be killin' shit

Masked up, kidnap shit, 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, fuck wit this clique, it ain't gon' be easy

'Cause you fuckin' wit' Twist if you fuck 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 shit