[Intro: Young Chris]
Yeah..
Young Chris, M-eez, my nigga Free-Wheez
The boy Twista
Holla
My life on the track (Okay)
Up and comin`
State Prop Chain gang (That`s right)
Get low (Get low)
It`s the Roc in the building nigga
(Holla...Yeah)
It`s the motherfuckin` Roc bitch, who hotter than us?
(Okay, okay)
[Young Chris]
Ayo..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 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
And if it`s ten targets and I got ten shots
I`m tryin` to leave at least 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 beef 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 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 rhinoes
Yeah, they be killin` shit
Masked up kidnap shit, that`s how my niggaz get
Chi-town, NYC, that`s how my niggaz get..
[Freeway]
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 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 4 4 in the 5th tucked ya`ll can`t hang
Transporter turned rapper, get a camcorder film my life
Still acclompished, tryin` to fill they cups
The rap version of Mandela, call my bluff
We still the street dwellers, feel my pain (my pain)
I spit a verse and split a clip in the rain
A fool-proof when the full force open you up (what!)
[Twista]
Twista will rock you, you don`t want the 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 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
