Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I grab the mic and grip it hard it's my last time to shine
I want the and the cream so I put it down for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, slang New
To break it down to straight English, what the fuck you
me? You punk faggot crab emcee
Get your shit broke in half for fuckin' with P
Aiyyo strike two, my style like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one strike you through
Word is bi-dond, Esco, Fubu, and Phat Fi-darm
Every time I get my on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron
I step up and bless the track and a jewel
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
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, for those who want me to run it
Then leave them like who it?
Sucka duck, I do what I feel now
When I spit the illest shit, be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get looks when I'm in the
That's that nigga, you smile with Scarface
It ain't my fault, that my style Silkk to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a
If I get caught you can bet blow trial
Be swingin', M.O.P. style
up

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

Yo yo, did you ever think you would a cap?
Yo, did you ever think you get a slap?
Yo, did you think you would get robbed
At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the
It's Doc, you know my name Hoe
My dirty 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 fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got more than bellhops
Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten
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, outta
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, to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo'
Huh, bad news, they souls through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to make them act fool
Hands on the steel, you heads over heel
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' lookout below
Aiyyo, dead roach clip and spark another

Chickenhawks, playin' like Parker Brothers
I rock for the low-class, Locash
The broke-assed, rock for trailer park trash
Yeah yeah, the God on your block Godzilla
Yeah yeah, she away my pussy I'ma kill her
John phenomenon, in Japan they call me Ichiban
Clan, numba won
In the nine, I hold mine
Keep playin' with it kid, you go blind, jerkoff
Fuck A.K.A., for now it's just Meth
it, that's all, solo, single no more no less

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and the symphony

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