Luyện nghe bài hát Art and Life

Yeah, Young Chris, M Eez, my nigga Free
The boy, Twista, holla, my on the track, okay
Up an' comin', State Prop Chain gang, right
Get low, the Roc in the building, nigga, holla
It's the motherfuckin' Roc, bitch, who than us? Okay, okay

Ayo, ever since a buck, I been on the come up
Known to dish the raw, dish the law if come up
An' cheddar 'till the sun up, if a ransom
An' the law get involved, we never get it summed up

Never put ya gun up, ya round me
I go to war wit' niggaz 'round the corner from me
You could front 'round me, but I through that
Wit' the an' I ain't talkin' 'bout no Segal mac

Niggaz, see, back, we can see to that
Hit yo front letters see through back, yo peoples back
An' I used to grind out on my spot
he's mom wanted my Tim bots

Now my paint got me
Or trans-quo all the world, like I was signed to Pimp dot
An' if it's ten targets an' I got ten
I'm tryin' to leave at least nine out of ten shot

I got my mind on my money, on my mind
But some say it's a gift, I don't write but I
I complete songs with one try
'em it's no lie, I be flo' all my life, dog

I never think, already there
I find ways to say it, so you motherfuckers it
An' when you hear it, you feel it, you know it's
So this is how I live it, how it's for real, nigga

I'm for real
Diamonds against wood, king for real
Big crib when I lay, yeah, I'm for real
Trust me, the guns off the shelf whenever shit'll get real

Automatics an' extended clips, that's what I'm wit'
Dummies in the black rhinos, yeah, be killin' shit
Masked up, shit, that's how my niggaz get
Chi town, NYC, that's how my get

Yes, just picture me
The Smith an' Wesson'll stay goin', put a hole in yo'
just another hustle paper gettin' made an' fold
Get mad, you niggaz finally made it

I swoop five, he know the ride, loaded
Deliver pies like cake, they go straight yo payment
Yup, chump, you don't really war
With the State Prop clique, if ya clique shot us, up

S.P. so damn tough
The fo' fo' in the 5th tucked can't hang
Transporter turned rapper, get a camcorder, my life
Still accomplished, to fill they cups

The rap of Mandela, call my bluff
We still the street dwellers, my pain
I spit a verse an' split a in the rain
A when the full force open you up

Twista will rock you, you don't the thug apostle to pop you
Hostile when I you, turnin' everything colossal to fossils
I speak street gospel, all life I spit words an' paint portraits
For real niggaz that hold they fortress an' serve off of porches

Hit 'em in the body wit' the forces, that'll end all your doubt
you clean up your house, bag up an ounce
Hit the dance an' bounce
We blessed wit' the talent, fuck wit this clique, it ain't gon' be
'Cause you wit' Twist if you fuck wit Chris
Bleek an' Free

So an' breath easy or the scutches my future in 3D
I like wars, I'm from a city full of Lords an' GDs
Breeds an' Souls, two sixes, Kings, BD's an'
Spanish cobras an' all the true soldiers, an' I'm gone

Watch me spit if for the killers an'
Flippin' all the pounds an'
Hate on me, I'ma bust at you an' I put eleven down wit' a clip
Niggaz servin' fiftys an' hundreds, I see you an' I'm on yo tip
an' this East Coast regime, it's that Chi Roc shit