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

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

Yo P, time to rock, the sound I got, it hot
necks snap back, like a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
Then tussle for days in, on my own with 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 I feel 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 with
It ain't my fault, that my 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 ever 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'
When it hits you, pain Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit
Snatch the trap I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shock

with fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got more bags bellhops
Two Benz on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', slayin' in ICU
Battlin', hockey rules
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
Rollin' like dice in Yahtzee 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' them dues, nuttin' to
Huh, street kids, and bruised, eyein' yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls through blues
Hardcore to them brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, you heads over heel
Smell the daffodils from the overkill
Feelin' like the mack a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville,
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' down lookout
Aiyyo, dead that roach clip and spark

Chickenhawks, playin' theyselves like Brothers
I rock for the low-class, Locash
The broke-assed, rock for trailer park trash
Yeah yeah, the God on block like Godzilla
Yeah yeah, she gave away my pussy I'ma her
John John phenomenon, in they 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, all, solo, single no more no less

up
I believe me

Get on the mic and the symphony

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