Text:
Chrome This Is My Life

Feel My Hood, My Block, My City, My Turf, My Fight, My Struggle On Da Real Ya'll Dis Is My Life, My Pain, My Stress, My Guilt, My Time, My Fame, My Shame

, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit In my

felt pain in my chest and my knees got weak There was blood on my hands and I fell to the ground And all I could hear was, "Yo, Ice is down" Somebody

shine, that's right (Chorus) (Birdman verse 3) Loud mics and big rims, nigga thats my life Come through the neighborhood with my homeboy Price Let's get it understood, nigga that's my

, you niggas is clones I hand out styles like ice cream cones, the fuck outta here That's Pha real, my gats is real The SL5 is lookin' like the Batmobile Chrome

reefer smoke, a lot of pictures being taken My bitch from Atlanta, my weed is Jamaican I don't talk much, too many niggas hating About a booty, that's my

outside I'll never catch a vehicular homicide My music is a description of my vibe of course My life, my sites, my thoughts, what I like on my fork '

the peaches and cream Not a main thing, but a one night flang Do my thug things, livin' off the King Pin Household thug, for all up in my business 26 inch chrome

They never could fuck with me sawed-off pump Bitch, if I'm flippin' or load my clip in, nigga, y'all all fucked Gotta make my money, slippin' me pump in my