Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

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

Yo, I that's 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
Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns
Not for the fun of it, for those who want me to run it
leave them like who done it?
Sucka duck, I do what I feel now
When I the illest shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get looks when I'm in the
That's that nigga, makin' you smile Scarface
It ain't my fault, that my style 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 you would catch a cap?
Yo, did you ever think you get a slap?
Yo, did you think you would get robbed
At gunpoint, and thrown out the car?
It's Funk Doc, you my name Hoe
My dirty underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the and shit
Snatch the trap then I like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shock

Hairlock with broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got bags than bellhops
Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten
Papichu', slayin' in ICU
Battlin', usin' rules
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
Rollin' down like dice in fool
I "Just do it" Nike, outta 'Bama
ten kids 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, street kids, and bruised, eyein' yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls through blues
Hardcore to them brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you heads over
Smell the daffodils the lyric overkill
Feelin' like the mack a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' lookout below
Aiyyo, dead that roach and spark another

Chickenhawks, playin' theyselves like Brothers
I for the low-class, from Locash
The broke-assed, even for trailer park trash
yeah, the God on your block like Godzilla
Yeah yeah, she 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
playin' with it kid, you might go blind, jerkoff
Fuck A.K.A., for now it's just Meth
it, that's all, solo, single no more no less

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and the symphony

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