Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I grab the mic and it hard like it's my last time to shine
I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for
Ill cat, slick talk, slang New
To break it down to English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk faggot emcee
Get your shit broke in half for around with P
strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you, nigga, one more strike you through
Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, Fubu, and Fi-darm
Every 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 tools
up

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

Yo P, to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot
Makin' necks snap back, a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
Then tussle for in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for those who me to run it
Then leave 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 I'm in the place
That's that nigga, makin' you with 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 downtown swingin', M.O.P.
up

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

Yo yo, did you ever you would catch a cap?
Yo, did you think you would get a slap?
Yo, did you ever you would get robbed
At gunpoint, and thrown out the car?
Funk Doc, you know my name Hoe
My dirty underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit
Snatch the trap then I dash Damon did
Doc, walk, thin red to shell shock

Hairlock fuckin' broads in nail shops
Got more bags than bellhops
Two thousand Benz on my by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' hockey
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' cock tools
Rollin' down like dice in Yahtzee
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, payin' them dues, to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo'
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls through rhymin'
Hardcore to make them brothers act
Hands on the steel, flip you heads over
the daffodils from the lyric overkill
Feelin' like the mack a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
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 park trash
Yeah yeah, the God on your block Godzilla
Yeah yeah, she gave my pussy I'ma kill her
John phenomenon, in Japan they call me Ichiban
Wu-Tang Clan, won
In the nine, I hold mine
playin' with it kid, you might go blind, jerkoff
Fuck them A.K.A., for now it's just
it, that's all, solo, single no more no less

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and rock the

Mrs. Stop Drop and Roll, top the told
Hot, even dames 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
drunk-pissed in the S-Type, stay whippin'
When the guns spittin', or get hittin'
It's written, we in the game but ball
Point game Jordan, y'all play the role of Pippen
Style switchin', tight ass after stickin'
Man listen, stop your and your bitchin'
Like E and P's last CD, out of business