Luyện nghe bài hát Art and Life

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

Ayo, ever since a young buck, I 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, then we never get it up

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

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

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

I got my mind on my money, money on my
But some say it's a gift, I write but I rhyme
I complete songs just one try
'em it's no lie, I be flo' all my life, dog

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

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

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

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

I swoop five, he the ride, heavily loaded
pies like cake, they go straight through yo payment
Yup, chump, you really wanna war
With the State clique, if ya clique shot us, squad up

S.P. game so tough
The fo' fo' in the 5th tucked ya'll can't
Transporter turned rapper, get a camcorder, film my
Still accomplished, tryin' to they cups

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

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

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

So speak an' breath easy or the my future in 3D
I like wars, I'm a city full of Vice Lords an' GDs
an' Souls, two sixes, Kings, BD's an' Stones
Spanish cobras an' all the 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 down wit' a clip
Niggaz servin' an' hundreds, when I see you an' I'm on yo tip
Twista an' East Coast regime, it's that Chi Roc shit