Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I grab the mic and grip it hard like my last time to shine
I want the chrome and the so I put it down for mine
Ill cat, talk, slang New York
To break it down to English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk crab emcee
Get shit broke 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, rock Esco, Fubu, and Phat
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I the gridiron
I up and bless the track and spit a jewel
We cool, no need for static, I strap tools
up

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

Yo P, time to rock, the sound I got, it hot
Makin' snap 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, for those who want me to run it
Then leave them like who it?
Sucka duck, I do I feel right now
When I the illest shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get when I'm in the place
That's that nigga, makin' you smile Scarface
It my fault, that my style Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get caught you can bet blow trial
Be downtown swingin', M.O.P.
up

Yo yo, Funk D.O.C.
Yo, on the mic to rock the symphony

Yo yo, did you ever think you would a cap?
Yo, did you ever you would get a slap?
Yo, did you ever think you get robbed
At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the
It's Funk Doc, you my name Hoe
My style dirty underground, or po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and
Snatch the trap 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', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' rules
For Keith Murray, Doc cock these tools
Rollin' down dice in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" like Nike, outta
With ten with hammers, hooked to a camper
Yo, up

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

on the move, payin' them dues, nuttin' to lose
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 heads over
Smell the daffodils from the lyric
Feelin' the mack inside a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville,
The sky is fallin',
I my high comin' down lookout below
Aiyyo, dead roach clip and spark another

Chickenhawks, theyselves like Parker Brothers
I for the low-class, from Locash
The broke-assed, even rock for park trash
Yeah yeah, the God on block like Godzilla
Yeah yeah, she gave away my pussy kill her
John phenomenon, in Japan they call me Ichiban
Wu-Tang Clan, won
In the whole nine, I mine
Keep playin' with it kid, you go blind, jerkoff
Fuck them A.K.A., for now it's Meth
it, that's 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 though is froze
Pop close range at foes, and blaze them
Leave 'em they brains exposed, and stains on clothes
Y'all better change your flows, hear how Luck
Stay drunk-pissed in the S-Type, whippin'
When the guns spittin', or get hittin'
It's written, we in the game but ball
game like Jordan, y'all play the role of Pippen
Style switchin', like tight ass stickin'
Man listen, stop your and your bitchin'
Like E and P's CD, you're out of business