Luyện nghe bài hát Art & Life (Chi-Roc)

Yeah, Young Chris, M Eez, my nigga Free
The boy, Twista, holla, my on the track, okay
Up an' comin', State Prop Chain gang, that's
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
to dish the raw, dish the law if they come up
An' cheddar 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 the corner from 'round me
You could front 'round me, but I read through
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 out on my friend's spot
'Til he's mom wanted my Tim

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

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

I think, it's already there
I find ways to say it, so you motherfuckers it
An' when you hear it, you feel it, you know real
So this is how I live it, how it's pictured for real,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Twista will rock you, you 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 hold they fortress an' serve off of porches

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

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

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