Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

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 down for
Ill cat, slick talk, New York
To it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk faggot crab
Get shit broke in half for fuckin' around with P
Aiyyo strike two, my style 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 step up and bless the and spit a jewel
We keeps cool, no need for static, I tools
up

Yo, I that's me
Yo, get on the mic and the symphony

Yo P, time to rock, the I got, it reigns hot
Makin' necks snap back, like a
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 them who done it?
Sucka duck, I do what I 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 to shock ya
Hit you the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll trial
Be downtown swingin', M.O.P.
up

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

Yo yo, did you ever you would catch a cap?
Yo, did you ever think you would get a
Yo, did you think you would get robbed
At gunpoint, stripped and out the car?
It's Funk Doc, you know my Hoe
My style underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the and shit
the trap then I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shock

Hairlock with fuckin' broads in shops
Hydro? Got more than bellhops
Two thousand on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' hockey
For Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools
Rollin' down like in Yahtzee 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, yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls through blues
Hardcore to make brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, you heads over heel
the daffodils from the lyric overkill
Feelin' the mack inside a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville,
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high down lookout below
Aiyyo, dead that roach clip and another

Chickenhawks, theyselves like Parker Brothers
I rock for the low-class, Locash
The broke-assed, even rock for park trash
Yeah yeah, the God on your block like
Yeah yeah, she gave away my I'ma kill her
John John phenomenon, in Japan they call me
Wu-Tang Clan, won
In the whole nine, I mine
Keep playin' with it kid, you might go blind,
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 the symphony

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