Songtexte: Twista. Art and Life.

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