Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

Yeah, Sermon, EPMD, yeah, check it
Redman, Man, Lady Luck, Def Jam
Erick and Parrish Millenium
Hold me down, me down

Yo, I grab the mic and grip it like it's my last time to shine
I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for
Ill cat, slick talk, New York
To break it down to English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk faggot emcee
Get your shit in half for fuckin' around with P
Aiyyo two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, nigga, one more strike you through
Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, Fubu, and Fi-darm
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the
I step up and bless the and spit a jewel
We keeps cool, no for static, I strap tools
up

Yo, I that's me
Yo, get on the mic and rock the

Yo P, time to rock, the sound I got, it hot
Makin' necks back, like a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
Then tussle for days in, on my own guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for who want me to run it
leave them like who done it?
Sucka duck, I do what I right now
When I spit the shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get looks I'm in the place
That's that nigga, makin' you with Scarface
It ain't my fault, that my Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get you can bet I'll blow trial
Be swingin', M.O.P. style
up

Yo yo, it's D.O.C.
Yo, you're on the mic to rock the

Yo yo, did you ever think you would a cap?
Yo, did you think you would get a slap?
Yo, did you think you would get robbed
At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the
It's Funk Doc, you my name Hoe
My style underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the and shit
Snatch the then I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, red lines to shell shock

with fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got more bags than
Two thousand Benz on my by ten picture
Papichu', slayin' in ICU
Battlin', hockey rules
For Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools
Rollin' down dice in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" Nike, outta 'Bama
With ten with hammers, hooked to a camper
Yo, up

the G O D
Yo yo, get on the mic for the

Youth on the move, payin' them dues, nuttin' to
Huh, kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to make brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you over heel
Smell the daffodils from the lyric
Feelin' like the mack inside a Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I my high comin' down lookout below
Aiyyo, that roach clip and spark another

Chickenhawks, playin' theyselves like Brothers
I rock for the low-class, Locash
The broke-assed, rock for trailer park trash
Yeah yeah, the God on your block Godzilla
yeah, she gave away my pussy I'ma kill her
John John phenomenon, in Japan they me Ichiban
Wu-Tang Clan, won
In the whole nine, I mine
Keep playin' it kid, you might go blind, jerkoff
Fuck them A.K.A., for now just Meth
That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and rock the

Mrs. Stop and Roll, rocks top the told
Hot, even though dames is
Pop close at foes, and blaze them hoes
Leave 'em with they brains exposed, and stains on
Y'all better change flows, hear how Luck spittin'?
Stay in the S-Type, stay whippin'
When the guns spittin', or get hittin'
It's written, we in the game but different
Point game like Jordan, y'all play the role of
Style switchin', tight ass after stickin'
Man listen, your cryin' and your bitchin'
E and P's last CD, you're out of business