Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

Yeah, Erick Sermon, EPMD, yeah, it
Redman, Method Man, Luck, Def Jam
Erick and Parrish Ducats
me down, hold me down

Yo, I the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine
I the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, New York
To break it down to straight English, what the you want?
Remember me? You punk faggot emcee
Get your shit in half for fuckin' around with P
strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one more 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 bless the track and spit a
We keeps cool, no for static, I strap tools
up

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

Yo P, to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot
necks snap back, like a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for those who me to run it
Then leave like who done it?
duck, I do what I feel right now
When I the illest shit, cats 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 Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll blow
Be downtown swingin', M.O.P.
up

Yo yo, Funk D.O.C.
Yo, you're on the mic to the symphony

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

Hairlock fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got more bags bellhops
Two thousand on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', hockey rules
For Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools
Rollin' down like in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" Nike, outta 'Bama
With ten kids with hammers, 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' souls through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to make them brothers act
Hands on the steel, flip you over heel
Smell the from the lyric overkill
Feelin' like the mack inside a Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' down below
Aiyyo, dead roach clip and spark another

Chickenhawks, playin' like Parker Brothers
I rock for the low-class, from
The broke-assed, rock for trailer park 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 call me
Clan, numba won
In the nine, I hold mine
Keep with it kid, you might go blind, jerkoff
Fuck them A.K.A., for now just Meth
That's it, all, solo, single no more no less

up
I believe me

Get on the mic and the symphony

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