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 like it's my last time to shine
I the chrome and the cream 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' around P
Aiyyo strike two, my style Brooklyn the Zoo
Hey you, nigga, one more strike 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 believe me
Yo, get on the mic and the symphony

Yo P, time to rock, the I got, it reigns hot
Makin' snap back, like a slingshot
E hustle, and my way in
tussle 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 what I right now
When I spit the illest shit, be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get when I'm in the place
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 I'll blow
Be downtown swingin', M.O.P.
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 think you would get a slap?
Yo, did you ever think you get robbed
At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the
It's Funk Doc, you my name Hoe
My dirty underground, or Ukraine po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, the vein and shit
Snatch the trap then I dash 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', crews in ICU
Battlin', usin' rules
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
Rollin' like dice in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" like Nike, outta
With ten kids 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, nuttin' to
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls through blues
Hardcore to them brothers act fool
on the steel, flip you heads over heel
Smell the daffodils from the lyric
Feelin' the mack inside a Cadillac Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville,
The sky is fallin',
I feel my high comin' down lookout
Aiyyo, that roach clip and spark another

Chickenhawks, theyselves like Parker Brothers
I rock for the low-class, Locash
The broke-assed, even rock for trailer trash
yeah, the God on your block like Godzilla
Yeah yeah, she gave away my I'ma kill her
John John phenomenon, in Japan they me Ichiban
Wu-Tang Clan, won
In the whole nine, I hold
Keep 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 believe me

Get on the mic and rock the

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