Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I the mic and grip it hard like it's my last 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, what the you want?
Remember me? You faggot crab emcee
Get shit broke in half for fuckin' around with P
strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one more you through
Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, Fubu, and Fi-darm
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 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' necks back, like a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for those who me to run it
Then leave them like who it?
Sucka duck, I do what I feel now
When I spit the shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get looks when I'm in the
that nigga, makin' you smile with Scarface
It ain't my fault, that my style Silkk enough to ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll blow
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 ever you would catch a cap?
Yo, did you ever think you get a slap?
Yo, did you ever think you would get
At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the
Funk Doc, you know my name Hoe
My dirty underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the and shit
Snatch the trap then I like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red to shell shock

with fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got bags than bellhops
Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten
Papichu', slayin' in ICU
Battlin', usin' rules
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
Rollin' down like dice in fool
I "Just do it" like Nike, 'Bama
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, payin' dues, nuttin' to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, they souls through rhymin' blues
to make them 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, playin' theyselves Parker Brothers
I for the low-class, from Locash
The broke-assed, rock for trailer park trash
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
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
That's it, that's all, solo, single no no less

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and rock the

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