Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last to shine
I want the chrome and the so I put it down for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, slang New
To break it down to straight English, what the you want?
Remember me? You punk faggot emcee
Get your shit in half for fuckin' around with P
Aiyyo two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one more you through
Word is bi-dond, Esco, Fubu, and Phat Fi-darm
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I the gridiron
I step up and bless the track and spit a
We keeps cool, no need for static, I tools
up

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

Yo P, time to rock, the I got, it reigns 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, for those who want me to run it
Then them like who done it?
duck, I do what I feel right now
When I spit the illest shit, 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, my style Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get caught you can bet blow trial
Be swingin', M.O.P. style
up

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

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

Hairlock with fuckin' broads in shops
Hydro? Got more than bellhops
Two thousand Benz on my by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' hockey
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
Rollin' down like dice in Yahtzee
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

on the move, payin' them dues, nuttin' to lose
Huh, street kids, and bruised, eyein' yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, they souls through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to make them brothers act
Hands on the steel, you heads over heel
Smell the from the lyric overkill
Feelin' like the mack a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville,
The sky is fallin',
I my high comin' 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, even rock for trailer park
yeah, the God on your block like Godzilla
Yeah yeah, she gave away my pussy kill her
John John phenomenon, in Japan they me Ichiban
Wu-Tang Clan, won
In the whole nine, I mine
Keep with 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 the symphony

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