Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

Yeah, Erick Sermon, EPMD, yeah, it
Redman, Method Man, Luck, Def Jam
Erick and Parrish Millenium
me down, hold me down

Yo, I grab the mic and it hard like it's my last time to shine
I the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, New York
To break it down to straight English, what the you want?
me? You punk faggot crab emcee
Get shit broke in half for fuckin' around with P
Aiyyo two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you
Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, Fubu, and Phat
Every 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 that's 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 them like who it?
duck, I do what I feel right now
When I spit the shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get when I'm in the place
That's nigga, makin' you smile with Scarface
It ain't my fault, my style Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, 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, on the mic to rock the symphony

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

Hairlock with fuckin' in nail shops
Hydro? Got more bags than
Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' hockey
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
Rollin' down like dice in Yahtzee
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, 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, flip you heads heel
Smell the daffodils the lyric 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' lookout below
Aiyyo, dead that roach clip and another

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

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and rock the

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