Luyện nghe bài hát Ghetto Symphony

[Snoop

Yo nephew, give me some of No Limit shit
Yeah..
We got my nigga Fiend in the
C-Murder in this
Mystikal all up in bitch
Goldie Loc,
My Silkk the Shocker
Oh yeah, we got somethin for the too
Mia X, run this

X]
Lyrical arsonist, lady
Down South, hustler, former smuggler
I'm Mother, of the Tank, gave to an army
Guerilla millionaires, so don't even ask, if you
get to clappin, soldier action of style
We made the whole world respect the underground
some of y'all niggaz shit and get mad
Cause we did it with a up your ass, and it's still there
I cares not your click or the block
I'm still that same to run up in your spot and knock you off
Broad, with the cause (yeah) on a mission
Keep them niggaz by they while you hoes be dick kissin
Missin the game, damn bitch written in plain ebonics
So shake that come-up off you brain and do the
Mia X, off the ghetto symphony
Next soldier up, tell em who the you be

WHUT? It's y'all
Put me in the with real MC's, and watch em run for cover
and hidin in trees, to escape the mic that I on
on, exceed on!
Weak with titles after twelve
Hit a bell that's I'll feed on!
Microphone Don, walkin flesh, talkin
Bringin harm, to the calm, and, them be
It's the African, oh, you wanna battle
I'll turn, you and your mans, to my yesterday
Oh damn, totin two pistols Yosemite Sam
Old man be grand, loud as the Southern
Pickups and caravans, the soldier, could, that can
I would be the man, but God beat me to plans

[Snoop
Next up, on the
C-Murder, get for the symphony

I be's that nigga on the tank, trippin never slippin
Have you and missin, that fool in your picture
Call me Bossalinie BITCH without the Mo's at
And FUCK dose who oppose (why?) we them hoes
three-hundred and sixty-five motherfuckin a year
I have fool staggerin just like a bottle of beer
You niggaz runnin from the cops, well I runnin no mo'
I flip the bird when I swerve, man, them hoes
I'm crazy my nagga, but uh, I thought knew that, shit
Oh you ain't see the news? I'm the nigga with the TRU tat
Ask my nigga Keno, shit, I just give a fuck
And if you run up wrong, fuck you up, you bitch you

[Snoop
Next up, on the
Silkk the Shocker get busy on the

[Silkk the
Now would I COME THIS FAR FUCKER? If I sound like a hit
didn't know what the fuck y'all thinkin bout
You sound a bitch (beotch!)
Shit it sound like a wish, you know you got a motherfuckin hit,
bitch?? When it like this!
Or you fake get enough heart, and try to bust a
at this click
Fuck around and miss, then around and get
in a ditch
Gotta labels give me dough, when they find I can, gross this
Freestyle shit, you can tell em I ain't, wrote stuff
Silkk the Shocker, KLC and mash like, Snoop and Dre nigga
can relate to ??? ??? get a contract like, MJ nigga
It where you from; it's where the -- FUCK YOU AT
N-O-L-I-M-I-T, Top Dogg, and I'm FUCKIN that

Dogg]
Next up, on the
Mystikal get on the symphony

WHOO MOTHERFUCKER GOD DAMN!!
I it HYYYYYYPE, BITCH I'M THE MAN!
When the you ever heard somebody say that they don't say my song
or that I don't on every fuckin verse I'm RAPPIN ON
(That nigga Mystikal tighter a muh'fucker) HAHHHHH?
I came up off of _Peter Piper_ bells and the LL's
nigga to be pissed off with me
cause their old lady they call me baby
MC's pilin up and crowdin up, but I'm FAVORITE
The to fly buyin a Z-28 IROC
And chop you in motherfuckin face (HIII-YAH)
Your ain't tite, WHAT IN THE FUCK IS YOU PUSHIN?
You played out like old woman pussy

Dogg]
Next up, on the
Loc, get busy on the symphony

[Goldie
Now watch me put these haters to the test, accumulatin my stress
em fuck em fifty, get the shit up off my chest
Releasin anger, all natural gangsta
Goldie Loc the name, House game
better start backin up (whattup whattup)
We in the Tank punk busters, motherfuckers don't see us loc'd up
Little Loc, Goldie Locks the same thang
Smashin for the hood, cause I wanted to

Dogg]
Last up, I that's me
Dogg, light up the mic for the symphony

This jam is to all non-optimistics
That thought I wasn't comin, out with exquisite, rhymes
But OK, cause now I'm back
To all the rumors, and straighten the facts
Like umm, doin bad, gettin for my bank
Now you all on my dick you see I'm TRU Tank Dogg
You say, "Mmmm mmm mmm! Ain't somethin
I bought yo' album, my nigga, that shit is bumpin
I apologize, I'm for the drama
Can I get autograph for my baby momma?"
Shit I'm it off, lettin it off, bustin
Hustlin, rushin, dustin
Droppin the heat, lock up the street, we to
I put this pistol in your mouth, now what you do?
Top of the line, class
I pop a cap in yo' ass, then pop some more in the
Too legit to quit, I'm spittin shit
Man fuck all yappin, we bout that gun clappin

No Limit, yeah, that's what's
Fuck all yappin, we bout that gun clappin

In the real world, talk is
Actions speak louder words
No Limit Records, to protect and serve