Luyện nghe bài hát Symphony 2000

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

Yo, I the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine
I want the chrome and the so I put it down for mine
Ill cat, talk, slang New York
To break it to straight English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? You punk crab emcee
Get your shit broke in half for fuckin' around P
Aiyyo strike two, my style like the Zoo
Hey you, look nigga, one more you through
Word is bi-dond, Esco, Fubu, and Phat Fi-darm
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the
I up and bless the track and spit a jewel
We keeps cool, no need for static, I tools
up

Yo, I believe 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 for days in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, for those who want me to run it
Then leave them who done it?
Sucka duck, I do what I feel now
When I spit the illest shit, be like, "Wow!"
Yo! I get looks I'm in the place
that nigga, makin' you smile with Scarface
It ain't my fault, that my style enough to shock ya
Hit you the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll 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 ever think you would get a
Yo, did you ever think you get robbed
At gunpoint, and thrown out the car?
It's Doc, you know my name Hoe
My style dirty underground, or 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 shell

with fuckin' broads in nail shops
Hydro? Got more bags bellhops
Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten
Papichu', slayin' in ICU
Battlin', usin' hockey
For Keith Murray, Doc gon' these tools
down like dice in Yahtzee fool
I "Just do it" Nike, outta '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' dues, nuttin' to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein' yo'
Huh, bad news, barin' they through rhymin' blues
Hardcore to make brothers act fool
Hands on the steel, flip you over heel
the daffodils from the lyric overkill
Feelin' like the mack inside a Seville
Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville,
The sky is fallin',
I my high comin' down lookout below
Aiyyo, dead that roach clip and spark

Chickenhawks, theyselves like Parker Brothers
I for the low-class, from Locash
The broke-assed, even rock for trailer trash
yeah, the God on your block like 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 whole nine, I hold
Keep playin' with it kid, you might go blind,
them A.K.A., for now it's just Meth
That's it, 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 dames is
Pop close range at foes, and blaze hoes
Leave 'em with they brains exposed, and stains on
Y'all change your flows, hear how Luck spittin'?
Stay drunk-pissed in the S-Type, whippin'
When the guns spittin', duck or get
It's written, we in the game but different
Point game like Jordan, y'all the role of Pippen
Style switchin', like tight ass stickin'
Man listen, stop cryin' and your bitchin'
Like E and P's CD, you're out of business