Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I grab the mic and grip it hard like my last time to shine
I want the chrome and the cream so I put it for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, slang New
To break it down to English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You faggot crab emcee
Get your shit broke in 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
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I the gridiron
I step up and the track and spit a jewel
We cool, no need 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 I got, it reigns hot
Makin' snap back, like 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
leave them like 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, you smile with Scarface
It my fault, that my style Silkk enough 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, 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, and thrown out the car?
It's Funk Doc, you know my Hoe
My style underground, or Ukraine po'
When it you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit
Snatch the trap then I dash like did
Doc, walk, thin red lines to shock

Hairlock with fuckin' in nail shops
Hydro? Got more bags bellhops
Two Benz on my eight by ten picture
Papichu', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' hockey
For Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools
Rollin' down like 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, kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls through blues
Hardcore to make them brothers act
Hands on the steel, you heads over heel
Smell the daffodils from the lyric
Feelin' like the mack inside a Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the of Seville, figaro
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' down below
Aiyyo, dead that clip and spark another

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

up
I that's me

Get on the mic and the symphony

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