Symphony 2000

Yeah, Erick Sermon, EPMD, check it Redman, method man, lady luck, def jam Erick and Parrish millennium ducats Hold me down, hold me down Yo! I grab 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 mine Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want? Remember me? you punk fagot crab emcee Get your shit broke in half for fucking around with p Hey yo strike two, my style Brooklyn like the zoo Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools Next up! Yo I believe that's me Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony [Erick Sermon] Yo p! Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot Making necks snap back, like a slingshot E hustle, and muscle my way in Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazing Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it Then leave them like, who done it? Sucker duck, I do what I feel right now When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, "wow!" Yo! I get looks when I'm in the place That's that nigga, making you +smile+ with Scarface It ain't my fault, that my style silk enough to shock ya Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial Be downtown swinging, m.o.p. style Next up! Yo yo it's funk d.o.c. Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony [Redman] Yo yo Did you ever think you would catch a cap? Yo did you ever think you would get a slap? Yo did you ever think you would get robbed At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car? It's funk doc, you know my name hoe My style dirty underground, or Ukraine po' When it hits you, pain pumps cool-aid, through the vein and shit Snatch the trap then I dash like Damon did Doc, walk thin red lines to shell shock Hair lock with fucking broads in nail shops Hydro? got more bags than bellhops Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten picture Papichu', slaying gcrews in icu Battling, using hockey rules For Keith Murray, doc gon' cock these tools Rollin down like dice in Yahtzee fool! I "just do it" like Nike, outta 'bama With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper! Yo next up It's the g-o-d Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony [Method] Youth on the move, paying them dues, nothing to lose Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyeing yo' jewels Huh, bad news, baring they souls through rhyming blues Hardcore! to make them brothers act fool Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill Feeling like the mack inside a Cadillac Seville Too ill, on cuts, the barber of Seville, fi-ga-ro! The sky is falling, Geronimo! I feel my high coming down, lookout below! Hey yo! dead that roach clip and spark another Chicken hawks, playing they selves like Parker brothers I rock for the low-class, from locash The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash Yeah yeah, the god on your block like Godzilla Yeah yeah, she gave away my pussy I'ma kill her John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban Wu-tang clan, number won! In the whole nine, I hold mine Keep playing with it kid, you might go blind, jerk off! Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less Next up! I believe that's me Bastard! Get on the mic and rock the symphony [Lady Luck] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told Hot, even though dames is froze Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spitting? Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whipping When the guns spitting, duck or get hitting It's written, we in the game but ball different Point game like Jordan, y'all play the role of Pippen Style switching, like tight ass after sticking Man listen, stop your crying and your bitching Like e and p's last CD, you're out of business