Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

Yeah, Sermon, EPMD, yeah, check it
Redman, Method Man, Luck, Def Jam
and Parrish Millenium 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 cream so I put it for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, New York
To it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk crab emcee
Get shit broke in half for fuckin' around with P
Aiyyo strike two, my style like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one strike you through
Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, Fubu, and Phat
time I get my spit 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 strap
up

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

Yo P, to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot
Makin' necks snap back, a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
Then tussle for in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, for those who want me to run it
Then them like who done it?
Sucka duck, I do I feel right now
When I spit the illest shit, be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get looks I'm in the place
That's that nigga, makin' you smile Scarface
It ain't my fault, my style Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you the fifth, block-a 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, 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 think you would get robbed
At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the
It's Funk Doc, you know my Hoe
My dirty underground, or Ukraine po'
it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit
Snatch the then I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shell

Hairlock fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got bags than bellhops
Two thousand on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', slayin' in ICU
Battlin', hockey rules
For Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools
Rollin' down like dice in fool
I "Just do it" like Nike, outta
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, them dues, nuttin' to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo'
Huh, bad news, they souls through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to them brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, you heads over heel
Smell the daffodils from the 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 lookout
Aiyyo, dead roach clip and spark another

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

up
I believe me

Get on the mic and the symphony

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