Luyện nghe bài hát Art and Life

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

Ayo, ever since a young buck, I on the come up
Known to dish the raw, the law if they come up
An' 'till the sun up, if there's a ransom
An' the law get involved, then we never get it up

put ya gun up, ya come round me
I go to war wit' niggaz 'round the corner 'round me
You could front 'round me, but I through that
Wit' the an' I ain't talkin' 'bout no Segal mac

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, picture me rollin'
The Smith an' Wesson'll stay goin', put a in yo' chest
It's just hustle paper gettin' made an' fold
Get mad, you street niggaz made it

I five, he know the ride, heavily loaded
Deliver pies like cake, go straight through yo payment
Yup, chump, you don't wanna war
the State Prop clique, if ya clique shot us, squad up

S.P. game so damn
The fo' fo' in the 5th tucked ya'll hang
Transporter turned rapper, get a camcorder, my life
Still accomplished, tryin' to they cups

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

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

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

So speak an' breath or the scutches my future in 3D
I wars, I'm from a city full of Vice Lords an' GDs
Breeds an' Souls, two sixes, Kings, BD's an'
cobras an' all the true soldiers, survive 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 hoes an' I put eleven down a clip
Niggaz fiftys an' hundreds, when I see you an' I'm on yo tip
Twista an' this East Coast regime, it's Chi Roc shit