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 it's my last time to
I want the chrome and the cream so I put it for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, slang New
To break it down to straight English, the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk faggot crab
Get your shit broke in half for fuckin' around P
Aiyyo strike two, my Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one strike you through
Word is bi-dond, Esco, Fubu, and Phat Fi-darm
time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron
I up and bless the track and spit a jewel
We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap
up

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

Yo P, time to rock, the I got, it reigns hot
Makin' necks snap back, like a
E hustle, and my way in
tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for who want me to run it
Then them like who done it?
Sucka duck, I do what I 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 with
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 blow trial
Be downtown swingin', M.O.P.
up

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

Yo yo, did you ever think you would catch a
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'
it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit
Snatch the trap then I like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shell

Hairlock with broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got more than bellhops
Two Benz on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', hockey rules
For Keith Murray, Doc cock these tools
down like dice in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" like Nike, 'Bama
ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper
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 rhymin'
to make them brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you heads over
Smell the daffodils from the overkill
Feelin' the mack inside a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' down below
Aiyyo, dead roach clip and spark another

Chickenhawks, playin' theyselves Parker Brothers
I rock for the low-class, Locash
The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park
Yeah yeah, the God on your like Godzilla
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 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 rock the

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