Epmd - Symphony 2000 lyrics

[pmd] yeh.. erick sermon.. epmd.. check it [e-dub] redman.. method man.. lady luck.. def jam [pmd] erick and parrish millenium ducats Hold me down, hold me down (*echoes*).. Uhh.. 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 f** you want? Remember me? you punk f*ggot crab emcee Get your sh** broke in half for f**in around with p Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo Hey you, look n***a, 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 j**el We keeps cool, no need for static, i strap tools Next up! [e-dub] yo i believe that's me [pmd] yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony [erick sermon] Yo p! Time to rock, the sound i got, it reigns hot Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot E hustle, and muscle my way in Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it Then leave them like -- who done it? s**a duck, i do what i feel right now When i spit the illest sh**, cats be like, "wow!" Yo! i get looks when i'm in the place That's that n***a, makin you +smile+ with scarface Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk 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 swingin+, m.o.p. style Next up! [red] yo yo it's funk d.o.c. [e-dub] yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony [redman] Hehahhh! 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 kool-aid, through the vein and sh** Snatch the trap then i dash like damon did Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock Hairlock with f**in broads in nail shops Hydro? got more bags than bellhops Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture Papichu', slayin crews in icu Battlin, usin hockey rules For keith murray, doc gon' co*k 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 [meth] it's the g-o-d [red] yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony [method] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' j**els Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues _hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel *sniff* Smell the daffodils from the lyric overk** *sniff* Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville *screech* Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro! The sky is fallin - geronimo! I feel my high comin down.. lookout below! Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers I rock for the low-cla**, from locash The broke-a**ed, even rock for trailer park trash Yeah yeah, the god on your block like godzilla Yeah yeah -- she gave away my p**y i'ma k** her John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban Wu-tang clan, numba won! In the whole nine, i hold mine Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff! f** them a.k.a., for now it's just meth That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less [all] next up! [lady] i believe that's me [all] ba*tard! [pmd] 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 spittin? Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech* When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin It's written, we in the game but ball different Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen Style switchin, like tight a** after stickin Man listen, stop your cryin and your b**hin Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business