Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

Yeah, Sermon, EPMD, yeah, check it
Redman, Man, Lady Luck, Def Jam
Erick and Parrish 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?
Remember me? You punk faggot emcee
Get your shit broke in for fuckin' around with P
strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one 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 bless the track and spit a
We keeps cool, no need for static, I 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
Makin' snap back, like a slingshot
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 what I feel now
When I the illest shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get looks when I'm in the
that nigga, makin' you smile with Scarface
It my fault, that my style Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll blow
Be swingin', M.O.P. style
up

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

Yo yo, did you ever think you would catch a
Yo, did you ever think you would get a
Yo, did you ever think you would get
At gunpoint, and thrown out the car?
Funk Doc, you know my name Hoe
My dirty underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit
Snatch the trap I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shock

Hairlock with fuckin' broads in nail
Got more bags than bellhops
Two thousand Benz on my by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' rules
For Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools
Rollin' like dice in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" Nike, outta '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, payin' them dues, nuttin' to
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to make them act fool
Hands on the steel, you heads over heel
Smell the daffodils the lyric overkill
like the mack inside a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high down lookout below
Aiyyo, dead that clip and spark another

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

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and the symphony

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