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 it's my time to shine
I want the chrome and the cream so I put it for mine
Ill cat, talk, slang New York
To break it down to straight English, the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk crab emcee
Get shit broke in half for fuckin' around with P
Aiyyo strike two, my 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 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 I got, it reigns hot
Makin' 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, just for who want me to run it
Then leave them like who it?
Sucka duck, I do I feel right now
When I spit the 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 Silkk enough to ya
Hit you the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get you can bet I'll blow trial
Be downtown swingin', M.O.P.
up

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

Yo yo, did you think you would catch a cap?
Yo, did you think you would get a slap?
Yo, did you ever you would get robbed
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
the trap then I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, red lines to shell shock

Hairlock fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got bags than bellhops
Two Benz on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', slayin' in ICU
Battlin', hockey rules
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' cock these
Rollin' like 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, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo'
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls through blues
Hardcore to them brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you heads heel
Smell the from the lyric overkill
Feelin' like the mack a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I my high comin' down lookout below
Aiyyo, that roach clip and spark another

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

up
I believe me

Get on the mic and rock the

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