Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I the mic and grip 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, talk, slang New York
To it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You faggot crab emcee
Get your shit in half for fuckin' around with P
Aiyyo strike two, my style like the Zoo
Hey you, nigga, one more strike you through
Word is bi-dond, Esco, Fubu, and Phat Fi-darm
Every I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron
I step up and bless the track and spit a
We cool, no need for static, I strap tools
up

Yo, I believe me
Yo, get on the mic and the symphony

Yo P, time to rock, the sound I got, it hot
Makin' necks snap back, like a
E hustle, and my way in
tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for who want me to run it
leave them like who done it?
Sucka duck, I do I feel right now
When I the illest shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get when I'm in the place
That's nigga, makin' you smile with Scarface
It ain't my fault, my style Silkk enough to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a
If I get you can bet I'll blow 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 think you would a cap?
Yo, did you ever you would get a slap?
Yo, did you ever think you would get
At gunpoint, stripped and out the car?
It's Funk Doc, you know my Hoe
My style dirty underground, or po'
When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and
the trap then I dash like Damon did
Doc, walk, red lines 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' rules
For Keith Murray, Doc cock these tools
Rollin' down like in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" like Nike, 'Bama
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, them dues, nuttin' to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo'
Huh, bad news, barin' they souls rhymin' blues
Hardcore to make them act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you heads heel
Smell the daffodils from the overkill
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, dead that roach and spark another

Chickenhawks, theyselves like Parker Brothers
I rock for the low-class, from
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 they call me Ichiban
Clan, numba won
In the nine, I hold mine
Keep playin' with it kid, you 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. Drop and Roll, rocks top the told
Hot, even though is froze
Pop close range at foes, and blaze them
Leave 'em with they brains exposed, and stains on
Y'all change your flows, hear how Luck spittin'?
Stay in the S-Type, stay whippin'
When the guns spittin', 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