Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

Yeah, Sermon, EPMD, yeah, check 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 my last 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 to straight English, what the fuck you want?
me? You punk faggot crab emcee
Get your broke in half for fuckin' around with P
strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, nigga, one more strike you through
Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, Fubu, and Phat
Every time I get my on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron
I up and bless 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 sound I got, it hot
Makin' necks snap back, a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
Then for days in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for who want me to run it
Then leave like who done it?
duck, I do what I feel right now
When I spit the illest shit, be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get when I'm in the place
that nigga, makin' you smile with 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 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 would catch a
Yo, did you ever think you would get a
Yo, did you think you would get robbed
At gunpoint, and thrown out the car?
It's Funk Doc, you know my Hoe
My dirty underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and
Snatch the then I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red to shell shock

Hairlock with broads in nail shops
Got more bags than bellhops
Two Benz on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' rules
For Keith Murray, Doc cock these tools
Rollin' like dice 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, to lose
Huh, kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' souls through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to them brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you over heel
Smell the daffodils from the overkill
Feelin' like the inside a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' down below
Aiyyo, dead that roach clip and another

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

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and rock the

Mrs. Drop and Roll, rocks top the told
Hot, even though is froze
Pop close at foes, and blaze them hoes
Leave 'em with they exposed, and stains on clothes
Y'all better change flows, hear how Luck spittin'?
drunk-pissed in the S-Type, stay whippin'
When the guns spittin', duck or get
It's written, we in the but ball different
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