Art & Life (Chi-Roc) (feat. Memphis Bleek, Young Chris & Freeway)

Lyrics

Yeah, Young Chris, M-eez
 My nigga 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, nigga
 Yeah, it's the motherfuckin' Roc, bitch
 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' niggaz '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
 Niggaz, 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 motherfuckers 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, 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 and 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
 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 niggaz 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 niggaz 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, fuck wit this clique
 It ain't gon' be easy 'cause you fuckin' wit' Twist
 If you fuck 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 killers 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
 Niggaz 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
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:08
Key
1
Tempo
91 BPM

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