There's a large Christmas tree in the lobby of 24 Greenway Plaza. It seems artificial, adorned with numerous ornaments spanning from crown to base and faux gifts surrounding it. As colorful as it seems, it's not truly festive, not on this frigid November day.

To get into the lobby, first you need to ride an elevator up from a parking garage. Your prime destination is any of the radio stations, in particular the one on the upper floors, the one where 97.9 The Box is located. Today, all of the artists with local ties but without a vetted kind of establishment are receiving packets for the Los Magnificos Custom Car & Bike Show. It's almost like the first day of school where the teacher is giving out seat assignments. The constant question upstairs however is a simple one, "Have you seen the Sauce Twinz?"

Minutes later, the Twinz, Sancho Saucy and Sauce Walka, walk through the doors, quiet and seemingly down for a second. The night before, they partied like they normally do. Days after this, they'll be in a studio with Boosie, inducting him like they had done so many others into the wave of the Sauce.

Their assistant, a stout and cheerful woman lassos in their itinerary for the day and keeps them focused. We have an initial meeting on the ground floor before they head up to the station. By the time they return, complete with fellow Sauce Factory member Sosamann, their energy has shot up, joking, critiquing the art in the lobby and slipping into comfort.

One would fully expect Walka, the darker of the Twinz with tattoos on each side of his face and round-framed glasses to scream out "SAUCE!" at a moment's notice. Instead, he's juggling hypothetical prices of said painting, throwing ridiculous numbers at Sosamann before they ultimately relent. They're stars, and they refused to be intimidated by what life wants to throw at them next.

"I kinda wouldn't say we were surprised because we knew it would happen before it happened," Walka, 24, says while surveying the scenery around him. "We knew this was what it was gonna be when we left the doctor's office and said 'Wah Wah.' Sauce that."

Though they may consider themselves twins, anyone could notice that Saucy and Walka don't favor one another physically. They're more brothers, both slender, inked from head to toe and outlandish whenever a microphone is present. The only real differences lie in their origins (Walka has been known in the Southwest/Missouri City area when he used to be commonly referred to as A. Walk and Saucy is from Dead End) and demeanor.

Often enough, a Sauce Twinz record is spastic, consistent with any form of a modern mix of Atlanta's bass heavy trap sound and Houston charm and individuality. The Twinz are standoffish when they're referred to as rappers, often making statements in interviews and other public forms that they don't want to collaborate with them.

"We walked out the church house one day and felt we had a word to serve," Walka says. "We don't rap, we preach. We have a word to serve and we feel that preaching is the best way to do it. That's why the city is so behind us. There's nothing artificial about us. We don't worry about collaborating with rappers; they need worry about collaborating with us. We just wanna add people to what we've got on. We aren't looking for features or co-signs, but we'll accept them with all the humbleness in the world. Sosamann the best rapper in the world, fuck I need to rap with Future for?"

Saucy is mostly quiet. When asked why he doesn't say much, Walka interjects, "That's my eyes. He don't gotta talk."

"Anything we rap about? Sosa been riding around in Lamborghini drop tops in Houston and shit like that. Saucy been in Miami in hotels with 5-6 chicks on Instagram in the bed. We've been doing this. To go in the studio and do a song, anybody can do that. That's exercise. Anybody can hit the ground and do a couple push ups. We've been living the lifestyle before actually putting in work in our music. It's all-organic. I could make a whole rap song while we're doing this interview," he explains.

"It's instant. We just get in the kitchen and start whippin', start drippin'."