Luyện nghe bài hát Ghetto Symphony

[Snoop

Yo nephew, give me of that No Limit shit
Yeah..
We got my nigga Fiend in the
in this motherfucker
Mystikal all up in this
Loc, hm-hmm
My nephew the Shocker
Oh yeah, we got for the ladies too
Mia X, run this

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

WHUT? Fiend y'all
Put me in the ring real MC's, and watch em run for cover
and in trees, to escape the mic that I breathe on
Bleed on, on!
Weak rappers titles after twelve
Hit a that's what I'll feed on!
Microphone Don, flesh, talkin bomb
Bringin harm, to the calm, and, them be
It's the African, oh, you battle again?
I'll turn, you and mans, to my yesterday plans
Oh damn, two pistols like Yosemite Sam
Old man be grand, as the Southern band
Pickups and caravans, the soldier, could, that can
I be the man, but God beat me to them plans

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

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

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

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

[Snoop
Next up, on the
Mystikal get busy on the

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

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

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

[Snoop
Last up, I that's me
Snoop Dogg, up the mic for the symphony

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

No Limit, yeah, what's happenin
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