Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

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

Yo, I believe me
Yo, get on the mic and the symphony

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

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

Yo yo, did you ever think you catch a cap?
Yo, did you ever think you would get a
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 you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit
the trap then I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shell

Hairlock with broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got more bags bellhops
Two Benz on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' rules
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
Rollin' down like dice in Yahtzee
I "Just do it" like Nike, 'Bama
With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a
Yo, up

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

Youth on the move, them dues, nuttin' to lose
Huh, kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls rhymin' blues
Hardcore to them brothers act fool
on the steel, flip you heads over heel
Smell the from the lyric overkill
Feelin' like the mack a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville,
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' down lookout
Aiyyo, dead that clip and spark another

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

up
I believe me

Get on the mic and rock the

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