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Song title: Dj Clue - Chest To Chest

Edit By: 216.73.217.128

Intro: styles

Dj clue.	desert storm style baby. what nigga

All:

L-o-x, chest to chest, back to back
Glock for glock, mac for mac
Dope and crack is what we sling do things you talk about
Player fuck around and catch a slug in your mouth

Verse one: jadakiss

Its a shame he can rhyme, nigga loves crime
Every late night hes outside with the nine
You aint got chips, fuck the world
You got chips, you can fuck the next mans girl
Sounds harsh but they been ripped apart my world
Where thugs could rule
And selling crack was cool
Knocked off hundred packs brought stacks to school
No diploma, weed aroma nigga half coma
Know the tricks of the class see my ass on the corner
You aint ate shit til yall tasted life
Had my moms screaming jay dont waste your life
But me and my ace is tight
Moving base at night
Lace your nights, you see narcs jet
Ill meet in the morning in the park doing sets
And when its dark again
Well let the 9s spark again
Yall know the dogs
Niggaz stay moving out the fog
And when its war we aint gonna call on the lord
Ill hit em like the board when I split em with my sword
You fear what you hear so nigga press record
From here on out we aint tryin to be ignored
L.o.x. drop shit that make niggaz mop shit
You wanna pop shit, nigga, pop clips

Verse two: styles paniro

Too many niggaz shake me, life is shaky
I act like this cuz they make me probably hate me
Nigga, Im in the dictionary look me up
Express art from my heart, baby cook me up
Im the crack in your tape deck
Im the burner on your waist thatll leave the place wet
Im the money in the safe thatll pay the case debt
Im the jewels on your neck thatll make these dime bitches give head
Im the blunt 3 in the morning you take to the head
Im that car that you snatched when you first got bread
Im that spot that you got when you were running from the feds
Im the heart of the page in that book that you read
Im the ground that absorbed all that shit that yall bled
Styles, physically and mentally
Going to for the goal cuz I paid the penalty
Yall aint a friend of me
Yall aint seen the enemy
Thinking of bending me
But Im on the kennedy
When I fly back in, hope youre packing
Coming to tear yall niggaz in fractions
Four-four
Seen the future we battlin all laws

Verse three: sheek luchion

Yall must really wanna die, fucking with sheek luchi
This here is the roof we dropping niggaz off bonsai
Goodbye, see you in your afterlife when
You come back as a pussy and I fuck you again
Respect come not from tecs, it comes from niggaz who write checks
To get yall lil niggaz outta big debts
With paper, Im sure that you never see me sweat
Only in the linen when Im spinning in my whip-up
Pass niggaz and watch they face frown like a pitbull
The shit that we crush niggaz sniff into their groove
Scared to move
Gleaming like you looking for change
But aint no dollars down there its that sack fucking with you
Now bounce before we bust you where the good lord split you
Hustle to work, you kidding me, you know the difference in the cash income
For years so many niggaz mustve been dumb
Where we from, niggaz been hustlin drums
Making sneaker money, running for crumbs, pulling in sums
If time dont stop, why should we yo light your spliff
You need work?  come on I got consignment to give
This year I need 97 gats, 97 cars
Swear to God this year, Im gonna fuck 97 starts
And if I come short, it aint no slack off my shoulder
Im waiting for this last bitch to get a little older what
L.o.x. nigga, dj clue, to the muthafuckin chest