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

Yeah, Chris, M Eez, my nigga Free Wheez
The boy, Twista, holla, my on the track, okay
Up an' comin', Prop Chain gang, that's right
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 buck, I been on the come up
to dish the raw, dish the law if they 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 come me
I go to war wit' niggaz 'round the from 'round me
You front 'round me, but I read through that
Wit' the mili an' I talkin' 'bout no Segal mac

Niggaz, see, shoot back, we can see to
Hit yo front letters see through back, bring yo peoples
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, like I was to Pimp dot
An' if it's ten an' I got ten shots
I'm to leave at least nine out of them ten shot

I got my on my money, money on my mind
But some say a gift, I don't write but I rhyme
I songs with just one try
Tell 'em 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 it, you know it's real
So this is how I live it, how it's for real, nigga

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

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

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

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

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

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 full force you up

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

Hit 'em in the body wit' the forces, that'll end all your doubt
Make you clean up your house, bag up an
Hit the dance an' bounce
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 like wars, I'm from a full of Vice Lords an' GDs
Breeds an' Souls, two sixes, Kings, an' Stones
Spanish cobras an' all the true soldiers, survive an' I'm

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