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

Yeah, Young Chris, M Eez, my Free Wheez
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 a young buck, I been on the come up
Known to dish the raw, 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

put ya gun up, ya come round me
I go to war wit' 'round the corner from 'round me
You could front 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 back, bring yo peoples back
An' I to grind out on my friend's spot
he's mom wanted my Tim bots

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

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

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

I'm shittin' for
Diamonds against wood, underground king for
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, 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
It's just another hustle paper made an' fold
Get mad, you niggaz finally made it

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

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

The rap version of Mandela, call my
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 want the thug apostle to pop you
Hostile I drop you, turnin' everything colossal to fossils
I street gospel, all they life I spit words an' paint portraits
For real niggaz that hold down fortress an' serve off of porches

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

So speak an' breath easy or the scutches my in 3D
I like wars, I'm from a city full of Vice 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 eleven down wit' a
Niggaz fiftys an' hundreds, when I see you an' I'm on yo tip
Twista an' this Coast regime, it's that Chi Roc shit