[{"id":26998234,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Def Jam 2000","duration":243.017143,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Def Jam 2000\n duration_ms: 243017\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":9329448,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Best Of","duration":244.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Best Of\n duration_ms: 244000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":9329447,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Out Of Business","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Out Of Business\n duration_ms: 243000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":31559686,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Out Of Business (Double Limited Edition)","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Out Of Business (Double Limited Edition)\n duration_ms: 243000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":21145326,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Out of Business Disc 1","duration":243.147755,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Out of Business Disc 1\n duration_ms: 243148\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":18956061,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"Epmd","albumName":"promo cd single","duration":245.2681,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: Epmd\n album: promo cd single\n duration_ms: 245268\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":18612091,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Meth & Red In Da House","duration":243.053417,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Meth & Red In Da House\n duration_ms: 243053\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":14377022,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Icon","duration":243.670204,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Icon\n duration_ms: 243670\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":15312643,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Best Of Black 99 (Disc 1)","duration":243.507664,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Best Of Black 99 (Disc 1)\n duration_ms: 243508\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":9586993,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Out Of Business (Deluxe Edition)","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Out Of Business (Deluxe Edition)\n duration_ms: 243000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":35177409,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Out Of Business (Limited Edition)","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Out Of Business (Limited Edition)\n duration_ms: 243000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":26128448,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Out of Business [Limited Edition] Disc 1","duration":242.684667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Out of Business [Limited Edition] Disc 1\n duration_ms: 242685\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":28631028,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Mai Music III","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Mai Music III\n duration_ms: 243000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":27913043,"name":"Symphony 2000","trackName":"Symphony 2000","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Instrumental","duration":197.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000\n artist: EPMD\n album: Instrumental\n duration_ms: 197000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":32871424,"name":"Right Now","trackName":"Right Now","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Symphony 2000","duration":232.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Right here, right now?\n\n[Erick sermon] (parrish smith)\nYeah, uh-huh\nUh-huh\nAh y'all know what, that is, yo, uh-huh (e-dub)\nUh-huh, uh-huh, y'know what that is, word up\n(Wax and tax em) the squadron, pmd, erick sermon\n(Millenium ducats) yo, yo. uh-huh\nDef jam\n\n[Erick sermon]\nExcuse me! I'm tryin to earn a mere buck or two\nYo my name's e-dub, so who the fuck are you?\nI'm lockin it down now, and that's that\nI'm the bigga nigga, supreme vigor figure with cap\nHold your gat, I can't control the sound\nIf the beat grabs you up, then hold yourself down\nCaptivates, give it raw to the kick and snare\nLike uhh-huh. yeah yeah.\n\n[Parrish smith]\nI love it when my jewels dangles\nCould see stars, like the bangles\nWhen you approach me, adress me as mr. like bojangles\nDeath decepticon, bad intentions when we reppin on\nMicrophones, step in the set and start flexin on\nYour big man, don't lose focus and watch the quicksand\nKill the drama, my nigga lean on cats, like a kickstand\nFuck it, erick and parrish millenium ducats\nFully flossed out, two g's, fisherman bucket\n\nChorus: epmd (repeat 2x)\n\nWho? epmd got checks to cash\nWhat what? drop bombs for the clubs to blast\nWhen? right now, so my crew could flash\nWhere? right here, get the money and stash\n\n[Erick sermon]\nAiyyo what's that song, that got the average dude\nPlayin the fool, hittin the bong with cheech and chong\nWhat? me and mic doc rock the spot like we're up\nWith more technique, than bruce lee with num-chuks (wha-tah)\nPure player, my rap flow's athletic\nWorkout seven albums - rap calisthetics\nEpmd now. here to getcha\nWith a blow, you coulda sworn roy jones hit ya\n\n[Parrish smith]\nCats can't hold me, erick and parrish, we hold the trophy\nScorn your team all day so I suggest you change your goalie\nCause I'm hype again, with e double, on the mic again\nCrack a 40, spark a l, then pop a? perkadan?\nStraight off tiggy, ridin shotgun with my niggy\nNo diggy, e and p tight like lenny and squiggy\nSundullah, no one cooler than the rap ruler\nAnd to the cats out there frontin, yo, you can't fool us\n\nChorus\n\n[Erick sermon]\nAiyyo, stop, drop, and roll, we on fire\nAnd we won't stop rockin til we retire\nWho said we _out of biz_? that there was a liar\nI'm sammy sosa, and p's mark mcgwire\nHome run hitters, with black tar beneath the eye\nIf you wanna hate me, do it now, try\nI'm lethal, take it back to epmd third album\nAnd do it _for my people_\n\n[Parrish smith]\nI jump out the plane and hanglide\nHit the ice and slip-slide\nNiggaz don't get it, epmd status, correct me if i'm\nMistaken, currently record breakin and still bakin\nLike kevin to footloose only difference we keep the sytsem quakin\nDusk to dawn, word is bond\nYou fuck with epmd, erick and parrish, the shit is on\nCause we roll with a street team that donate posters\nQuick to roast ya\nRun up with the gat cocked back, clap, and smoke ya\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Right Now\n artist: EPMD\n album: Symphony 2000\n duration_ms: 232000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Right here, right now?\n\n [Erick sermon] (parrish smith)\n Yeah, uh-huh\n Uh-huh\n Ah y'all know what, that is, yo, uh-huh (e-dub)\n Uh-huh, uh-huh, y'know what that is, word up\n (Wax and tax em) the squadron, pmd, erick sermon\n (Millenium ducats) yo, yo. uh-huh\n Def jam\n\n [Erick sermon]\n Excuse me! I'm tryin to earn a mere buck or two\n Yo my name's e-dub, so who the fuck are you?\n I'm lockin it down now, and that's that\n I'm the bigga nigga, supreme vigor figure with cap\n Hold your gat, I can't control the sound\n If the beat grabs you up, then hold yourself down\n Captivates, give it raw to the kick and snare\n Like uhh-huh. yeah yeah.\n\n [Parrish smith]\n I love it when my jewels dangles\n Could see stars, like the bangles\n When you approach me, adress me as mr. like bojangles\n Death decepticon, bad intentions when we reppin on\n Microphones, step in the set and start flexin on\n Your big man, don't lose focus and watch the quicksand\n Kill the drama, my nigga lean on cats, like a kickstand\n Fuck it, erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Fully flossed out, two g's, fisherman bucket\n\n Chorus: epmd (repeat 2x)\n\n Who? epmd got checks to cash\n What what? drop bombs for the clubs to blast\n When? right now, so my crew could flash\n Where? right here, get the money and stash\n\n [Erick sermon]\n Aiyyo what's that song, that got the average dude\n Playin the fool, hittin the bong with cheech and chong\n What? me and mic doc rock the spot like we're up\n With more technique, than bruce lee with num-chuks (wha-tah)\n Pure player, my rap flow's athletic\n Workout seven albums - rap calisthetics\n Epmd now. here to getcha\n With a blow, you coulda sworn roy jones hit ya\n\n [Parrish smith]\n Cats can't hold me, erick and parrish, we hold the trophy\n Scorn your team all day so I suggest you change your goalie\n Cause I'm hype again, with e double, on the mic again\n Crack a 40, spark a l, then pop a? perkadan?\n Straight off tiggy, ridin shotgun with my niggy\n No diggy, e and p tight like lenny and squiggy\n Sundullah, no one cooler than the rap ruler\n And to the cats out there frontin, yo, you can't fool us\n\n Chorus\n\n [Erick sermon]\n Aiyyo, stop, drop, and roll, we on fire\n And we won't stop rockin til we retire\n Who said we _out of biz_? that there was a liar\n I'm sammy sosa, and p's mark mcgwire\n Home run hitters, with black tar beneath the eye\n If you wanna hate me, do it now, try\n I'm lethal, take it back to epmd third album\n And do it _for my people_\n\n [Parrish smith]\n I jump out the plane and hanglide\n Hit the ice and slip-slide\n Niggaz don't get it, epmd status, correct me if i'm\n Mistaken, currently record breakin and still bakin\n Like kevin to footloose only difference we keep the sytsem quakin\n Dusk to dawn, word is bond\n You fuck with epmd, erick and parrish, the shit is on\n Cause we roll with a street team that donate posters\n Quick to roast ya\n Run up with the gat cocked back, clap, and smoke ya\n\n Chorus\n"},{"id":33189618,"name":"EPMD-symphony 2000","trackName":"EPMD-symphony 2000","artistName":"artist","albumName":"title","duration":245.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: EPMD-symphony 2000\n artist: artist\n album: title\n duration_ms: 245000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":18114309,"name":"Symphony 2000 (Remix)","trackName":"Symphony 2000 (Remix)","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Out Of Business","duration":243.147755,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000 (Remix)\n artist: EPMD\n album: Out Of Business\n duration_ms: 243148\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":13916693,"name":"Symphony 2000 (EXPLICIT) (1999)","trackName":"Symphony 2000 (EXPLICIT) (1999)","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Külföldi","duration":242.904,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000 (EXPLICIT) (1999)\n artist: EPMD\n album: Külföldi\n duration_ms: 242904\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":11683503,"name":"Symphony 2000 (Album Version Explicit)","trackName":"Symphony 2000 (Album Version Explicit)","artistName":"EPMD","albumName":"Def Jam 25, Vol. 23 - Show And Prove (Explicit Version)","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\nRedman. method man. lady luck. def jam\nErick and parrish millenium ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang new york\nTo break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\nRemember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\nAiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\nWord is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nYo p!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\n\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\nYo! i get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\nUhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's funk d.o.c\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\nHehahhh! yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's funk doc, you know my name hoe\nMy style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\nSnatch the trap then I dash like damon did\nDoc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\nTwo thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\nPapichu', slayin crews in icu\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\nFor keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\nRollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\nI just do it like nike, outta 'bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the g-o-d\nYo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\nHardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\nToo ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - geronimo!\nI feel my high comin down. lookout below!\nAiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\nYeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\nJohn john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\nWu-tang clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nI believe that's me\nBastard!\nGet on the mic and rock the symphony\n\nMrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMan listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike e and p's last cd, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.09] Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n[00:08.06] Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n[00:11.98] Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n[00:13.97] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n[00:17.22] Uhh. yo!\n[00:21.02] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:22.97] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:25.56] Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n[00:28.14] To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n[00:30.46] Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:32.92] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n[00:35.66] Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n[00:38.28] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:40.76] Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n[00:43.25] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:45.83] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:48.44] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:50.90] Next up!\n[00:51.98] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.34] Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[00:56.99] Yo p!\n[00:57.43] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:59.08] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.11] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.06] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.05] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.16] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.32] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:13.75] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n[01:16.03] Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:18.62] That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n[01:21.24] Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n[01:24.10] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:26.60] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:28.81] Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n[01:31.32] Next up!\n[01:32.23] Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n[01:33.89] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n[01:37.18] Hehahhh! yo yo\n[01:37.27] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:38.75] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:40.90] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:43.63] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.34] It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n[01:48.56] My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n[01:50.89] When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:53.98] Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n[01:56.40] Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.19] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:01.86] Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n[02:04.04] Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n[02:06.79] Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n[02:09.89] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:11.93] For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:14.41] Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n[02:16.96] I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n[02:19.79] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.07] Yo next up\n[02:23.49] It's the g-o-d\n[02:24.34] Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n[02:27.30] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.51] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:31.99] Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n[02:34.81] Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.02] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:39.50] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.33] Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n[02:44.85] Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:47.10] The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n[02:49.72] I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n[02:52.22] Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:54.85] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n[02:57.22] I rock for the low-class, from locash\n[02:59.86] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.20] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n[03:04.89] Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n[03:07.25] John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n[03:09.38] Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n[03:12.69] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.35] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:17.44] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n[03:19.94] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:23.54] I believe that's me\n[03:25.04] Bastard!\n[03:26.18] Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n[03:27.84] Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.21] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.67] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.12] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:37.52] Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n[03:40.24] Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n[03:42.96] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.47] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:47.79] Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n[03:50.28] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:52.82] Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.52] Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n[03:57.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000 (Album Version Explicit)\n artist: EPMD\n album: Def Jam 25, Vol. 23 - Show And Prove (Explicit Version)\n duration_ms: 242000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n start_ms: 1090\n end_ms: 8060\n- text: Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n start_ms: 8060\n end_ms: 11980\n- text: Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n start_ms: 11980\n end_ms: 13970\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n start_ms: 13970\n end_ms: 17220\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 17220\n end_ms: 21020\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 21020\n end_ms: 22970\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 22970\n end_ms: 25560\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n start_ms: 25560\n end_ms: 28140\n- text: To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28140\n end_ms: 30460\n- text: Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 30460\n end_ms: 32920\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n start_ms: 32920\n end_ms: 35660\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n start_ms: 35660\n end_ms: 38280\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38280\n end_ms: 40760\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n start_ms: 40760\n end_ms: 43250\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43250\n end_ms: 45830\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 45830\n end_ms: 48440\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 48440\n end_ms: 50900\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 50900\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 53340\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 53340\n end_ms: 56990\n- text: Yo p!\n start_ms: 56990\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59080\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 59080\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63060\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63060\n end_ms: 66050\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66050\n end_ms: 69160\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69160\n end_ms: 71320\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71320\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76030\n- text: Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76030\n end_ms: 78620\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n start_ms: 78620\n end_ms: 81240\n- text: Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n start_ms: 81240\n end_ms: 84100\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 84100\n end_ms: 86600\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 86600\n end_ms: 88810\n- text: Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n start_ms: 88810\n end_ms: 91320\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91320\n end_ms: 92230\n- text: Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n start_ms: 92230\n end_ms: 93890\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n start_ms: 93890\n end_ms: 97180\n- text: Hehahhh! yo yo\n start_ms: 97180\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 98750\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 98750\n end_ms: 100900\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 100900\n end_ms: 103630\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 103630\n end_ms: 106340\n- text: It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n start_ms: 106340\n end_ms: 108560\n- text: My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108560\n end_ms: 110890\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 110890\n end_ms: 113980\n- text: Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n start_ms: 113980\n end_ms: 116400\n- text: Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 116400\n end_ms: 119190\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119190\n end_ms: 121860\n- text: Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 121860\n end_ms: 124040\n- text: Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n start_ms: 124040\n end_ms: 126790\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n start_ms: 126790\n end_ms: 129890\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 129890\n end_ms: 131930\n- text: For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 131930\n end_ms: 134410\n- text: Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 134410\n end_ms: 136960\n- text: I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n start_ms: 136960\n end_ms: 139790\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139790\n end_ms: 142070\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142070\n end_ms: 143490\n- text: It's the g-o-d\n start_ms: 143490\n end_ms: 144340\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n start_ms: 144340\n end_ms: 147300\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147300\n end_ms: 149510\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149510\n end_ms: 151990\n- text: Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n start_ms: 151990\n end_ms: 154810\n- text: Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n start_ms: 154810\n end_ms: 157020\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157020\n end_ms: 159500\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 159500\n end_ms: 162330\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n start_ms: 162330\n end_ms: 164850\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 164850\n end_ms: 167100\n- text: The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n start_ms: 167100\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 172220\n- text: Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172220\n end_ms: 174850\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n start_ms: 174850\n end_ms: 177220\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from locash\n start_ms: 177220\n end_ms: 179860\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 179860\n end_ms: 182200\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n start_ms: 182200\n end_ms: 184890\n- text: Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n start_ms: 184890\n end_ms: 187250\n- text: John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n start_ms: 187250\n end_ms: 189380\n- text: Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 189380\n end_ms: 192690\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192690\n end_ms: 194350\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194350\n end_ms: 197440\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n start_ms: 197440\n end_ms: 199940\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 199940\n end_ms: 203540\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 203540\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Bastard!\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 207840\n- text: Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207840\n end_ms: 210210\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210210\n end_ms: 212670\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212670\n end_ms: 215120\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215120\n end_ms: 217520\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n start_ms: 217520\n end_ms: 220240\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n start_ms: 220240\n end_ms: 222960\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 222960\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 227790\n- text: Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n start_ms: 227790\n end_ms: 230280\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230280\n end_ms: 232820\n- text: Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 232820\n end_ms: 235520\n- text: Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235520\n end_ms: 237980\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 237980\nplain: |-\n Yeh. erick sermon. epmd. check it\n Redman. method man. lady luck. def jam\n Erick and parrish millenium ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes)\n\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york\n To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?\n\n Remember me? you punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with p\n Aiyyo strike two, my style brooklyn like the zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n\n Word is bi-dond, rock esco, fubu, and phat fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Yo p!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, wow!\n Yo! i get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +smile+ with scarface\n Uhh, +it ain't my fault+, that my style silkk enough to shock ya\n\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's funk d.o.c\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the symphony\n\n Hehahhh! yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's funk doc, you know my name hoe\n My style dirty underground, or ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps kool-aid, through the vein and shit\n\n Snatch the trap then I dash like damon did\n Doc, walk _thin red lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? got more bags than bellhops\n\n Two thousand benz on my eight by ten picture\n Papichu', slayin crews in icu\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n For keith murray, doc gon' cock these tools\n\n Rollin down like dice in yahtzee fool!\n I just do it like nike, outta 'bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the g-o-d\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues\n\n Hardcore_! to make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a cadillac seville screech\n\n Too ill, on cuts, the barber of seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - geronimo!\n I feel my high comin down. lookout below!\n Aiyyo! dead that roach clip and spark another\n\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like parker brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like godzilla\n\n Yeah yeah -- she gave away my pussy i'ma kill her\n John john phenom-enon, in japan they call me ichiban\n Wu-tang clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n I believe that's me\n Bastard!\n Get on the mic and rock the symphony\n\n Mrs. stop drop and roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the s-type, stay whippin *screech*\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like jordan, y'all play the role of pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n Man listen, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like e and p's last cd, you're out of business\n"},{"id":14077389,"name":"Symphony 2000 (Remix) (feat. Redman & Method Man)","trackName":"Symphony 2000 (Remix) (feat. Redman & Method Man)","artistName":"Epmd","albumName":"Out Of Business","duration":243.147755,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeh. Erick Sermon. EPMD. check it\nRedman. Method Man. Lady Luck. Def Jam\n\nErick and Parrish Millenium Ducats\nHold me down, hold me down (echoes).\nUhh. yo!\nI grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\nI want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\nIll cat, slick talk, slang New York\nTo break it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?\nRemember me? You punk faggot crab emcee\nGet your shit broke in half for fuckin around with P\nAiyyo strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo\nHey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\nWord is bi-dond, rock Esco, FUBU, and Phat Fi-darm\nEvery time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\nI step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\nWe keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n\nNext up!\n\nYo I believe that's me\nYo, get on the mic and rock the Symphony\n\nYo P!\nTime to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\nMakin necks snap back, like a slingshot\nE hustle, and muscle my way in\nThen tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\nNot for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\nThen leave them like -- who done it?\nSucka duck, I do what I feel right now\nWhen I spit the illest shit, cats be like, \"Wow!\"\nYO! I get looks when I'm in the place\nThat's that nigga, makin you +Smile+ with Scarface\nUhh, +It Ain't My Fault+, that my style Silkk enough to Shock ya\nHit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n\nIf I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\nBe +Downtown Swingin+, M.O.P. style\n\nNext up!\n\nYo yo it's Funk D.O.C\nYo, you're on the mic to rock the Symphony\n\nHeHAHHH! Yo yo\nDid you ever think you would catch a cap?\nYo did you ever think you would get a slap?\nYo did you ever think you would get robbed\nAt gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\nIt's Funk Doc, you know my name HOE\nMy style dirty underground, or Ukraine po'\nWhen it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit\nSnatch the trap then I Dash like Damon did\nDoc, walk _Thin Red Lines_ to shell shock\nHairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\nHydro? Got more bags than bellhops\nTwo thousand Benz on my eight by ten PICTURE\nPapichu', slayin crews in ICU\nBattlin, usin hockey rules\n\nFor Keith Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools\nRollin down like dice in Yahtzee fool!\n\nI \"Just Do It\" like Nike, outta 'Bama\nWith ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\nYo next up\n\nIt's the G-O-D\nYo yo, get on the mic for the Symphony\n\nYouth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\nHuh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\nHuh, bad news bearin' they souls through rhyme and blues\n\"Hardcore!\" To make them brothers act fool\nHands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\nSmell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\nFeelin like the mack inside a Cadillac Seville screech\nToo ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville - fi-ga-ro!\nThe sky is fallin - GERONIMO!\nI feel my high comin down. LOOKOUT BELOW!\nAIYYO! Dead that roach clip and spark another\nChickenhawks, playin theyselves like Parker Brothers\nI rock for the low-class, from Locash\nThe broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\nYeah yeah, the God on your block like Godzilla\nYeah, yeah—she gave away my pussy I'mma kill her\n\nJohn John phenom-enon\nIn Japan they call me Ichiban\nWu-Tang Clan, numba won!\nIn the whole nine, I hold mine\n\nKeep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\nFuck them a.k.a., for now it's just Meth\nThat's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\nNEXT UP!\nI believe that's me\nBASTARD!\nGet on the mic and rock the Symphony\n\nMrs. Stop Drop and Roll, rocks top the told\nHot, even though dames is froze\nPop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\nLeave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\nY'all better change your flows, hear how Luck spittin?\nStay drunk-pissed in the S-Type, stay whippin screech\nWhen the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\nIt's written, we in the game but ball different\nPoint game like Jordan, y'all play the role of Pippen\nStyle switchin, like tight ass after stickin\nMAN LISTEN, stop your cryin and your bitchin\nLike E and P's last CD, you're out of business","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.35] Yeh. Erick Sermon. EPMD. check it\n[00:07.95] Redman. Method Man. Lady Luck. Def Jam\n[00:12.15] Erick and Parrish Millenium Ducats\n[00:15.35] Hold me down, hold me down (echoes).\n[00:18.48] Uhh. yo!\n[00:20.92] I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n[00:23.52] I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n[00:26.23] Ill cat, slick talk, slang New York\n[00:28.68] To break it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?\n[00:31.13] Remember me? You punk faggot crab emcee\n[00:33.70] Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with P\n[00:36.23] Aiyyo strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo\n[00:38.93] Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n[00:41.28] Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, FUBU, and Phat Fi-darm\n[00:43.97] Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n[00:46.55] I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n[00:49.09] We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n[00:51.43] Next up!\n[00:52.37] Yo I believe that's me\n[00:53.96] Yo, get on the mic and rock the Symphony\n[00:55.75] Yo P!\n[00:56.33] Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n[00:58.85] Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n[01:01.54] E hustle, and muscle my way in\n[01:03.60] Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n[01:06.86] Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n[01:09.87] Then leave them like -- who done it?\n[01:11.81] Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n[01:14.08] When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, \"Wow!\"\n[01:16.55] YO! I get looks when I'm in the place\n[01:19.11] That's that nigga, makin you +Smile+ with Scarface\n[01:22.13] Uhh, +It Ain't My Fault+, that my style Silkk enough to Shock ya\n[01:25.11] Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n[01:27.07] If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n[01:29.49] Be +Downtown Swingin+, M.O.P. style\n[01:31.89] Next up!\n[01:32.49] Yo yo it's Funk D.O.C\n[01:33.52] Yo, you're on the mic to rock the Symphony\n[01:36.23] HeHAHHH! Yo yo\n[01:36.78] Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n[01:39.15] Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n[01:41.64] Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n[01:44.10] At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n[01:46.79] It's Funk Doc, you know my name HOE\n[01:48.62] My style dirty underground, or Ukraine po'\n[01:51.18] When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit\n[01:54.45] Snatch the trap then I Dash like Damon did\n[01:57.02] Doc, walk _Thin Red Lines_ to shell shock\n[01:59.81] Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n[02:02.42] Hydro? Got more bags than bellhops\n[02:05.09] Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten PICTURE\n[02:08.47] Papichu', slayin crews in ICU\n[02:10.55] Battlin, usin hockey rules\n[02:12.34] For Keith Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools\n[02:15.01] Rollin down like dice in Yahtzee fool!\n[02:17.35] I \"Just Do It\" like Nike, outta 'Bama\n[02:19.91] With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n[02:22.88] Yo next up\n[02:23.56] It's the G-O-D\n[02:24.88] Yo yo, get on the mic for the Symphony\n[02:27.04] Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n[02:29.88] Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n[02:32.42] Huh, bad news bearin' they souls through rhyme and blues\n[02:35.15] \"Hardcore!\" To make them brothers act fool\n[02:37.76] Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n[02:40.21] Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n[02:42.85] Feelin like the mack inside a Cadillac Seville screech\n[02:45.15] Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville - fi-ga-ro!\n[02:48.33] The sky is fallin - GERONIMO!\n[02:50.28] I feel my high comin down. LOOKOUT BELOW!\n[02:52.84] AIYYO! Dead that roach clip and spark another\n[02:56.09] Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like Parker Brothers\n[02:57.82] I rock for the low-class, from Locash\n[03:00.34] The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n[03:02.78] Yeah yeah, the God on your block like Godzilla\n[03:05.25] Yeah, yeah—she gave away my pussy I'mma kill her\n[03:08.03] John John phenom-enon\n[03:09.63] In Japan they call me Ichiban\n[03:11.28] Wu-Tang Clan, numba won!\n[03:12.95] In the whole nine, I hold mine\n[03:14.75] Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n[03:16.87] Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just Meth\n[03:20.42] That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n[03:22.81] NEXT UP!\n[03:24.11] I believe that's me\n[03:25.74] BASTARD!\n[03:25.96] Get on the mic and rock the Symphony\n[03:27.82] Mrs. Stop Drop and Roll, rocks top the told\n[03:30.82] Hot, even though dames is froze\n[03:32.93] Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n[03:35.51] Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n[03:38.17] Y'all better change your flows, hear how Luck spittin?\n[03:40.82] Stay drunk-pissed in the S-Type, stay whippin screech\n[03:43.43] When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n[03:45.93] It's written, we in the game but ball different\n[03:48.58] Point game like Jordan, y'all play the role of Pippen\n[03:50.95] Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n[03:53.59] MAN LISTEN, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n[03:55.84] Like E and P's last CD, you're out of business\n[03:58.49] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Symphony 2000 (Remix) (feat. Redman & Method Man)\n artist: Epmd\n album: Out Of Business\n duration_ms: 243148\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeh. Erick Sermon. EPMD. check it\n start_ms: 1350\n end_ms: 7950\n- text: Redman. Method Man. Lady Luck. Def Jam\n start_ms: 7950\n end_ms: 12150\n- text: Erick and Parrish Millenium Ducats\n start_ms: 12150\n end_ms: 15350\n- text: Hold me down, hold me down (echoes).\n start_ms: 15350\n end_ms: 18480\n- text: Uhh. yo!\n start_ms: 18480\n end_ms: 20920\n- text: I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n start_ms: 20920\n end_ms: 23520\n- text: I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n start_ms: 23520\n end_ms: 26230\n- text: Ill cat, slick talk, slang New York\n start_ms: 26230\n end_ms: 28680\n- text: To break it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?\n start_ms: 28680\n end_ms: 31130\n- text: Remember me? You punk faggot crab emcee\n start_ms: 31130\n end_ms: 33700\n- text: Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with P\n start_ms: 33700\n end_ms: 36230\n- text: Aiyyo strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo\n start_ms: 36230\n end_ms: 38930\n- text: Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n start_ms: 38930\n end_ms: 41280\n- text: Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, FUBU, and Phat Fi-darm\n start_ms: 41280\n end_ms: 43970\n- text: Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n start_ms: 43970\n end_ms: 46550\n- text: I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n start_ms: 46550\n end_ms: 49090\n- text: We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n start_ms: 49090\n end_ms: 51430\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 51430\n end_ms: 52370\n- text: Yo I believe that's me\n start_ms: 52370\n end_ms: 53960\n- text: Yo, get on the mic and rock the Symphony\n start_ms: 53960\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Yo P!\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 56330\n- text: Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n start_ms: 56330\n end_ms: 58850\n- text: Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n start_ms: 58850\n end_ms: 61540\n- text: E hustle, and muscle my way in\n start_ms: 61540\n end_ms: 63600\n- text: Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n start_ms: 63600\n end_ms: 66860\n- text: Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n start_ms: 66860\n end_ms: 69870\n- text: Then leave them like -- who done it?\n start_ms: 69870\n end_ms: 71810\n- text: Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n start_ms: 71810\n end_ms: 74080\n- text: When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, \"Wow!\"\n start_ms: 74080\n end_ms: 76550\n- text: YO! I get looks when I'm in the place\n start_ms: 76550\n end_ms: 79110\n- text: That's that nigga, makin you +Smile+ with Scarface\n start_ms: 79110\n end_ms: 82130\n- text: Uhh, +It Ain't My Fault+, that my style Silkk enough to Shock ya\n start_ms: 82130\n end_ms: 85110\n- text: Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n start_ms: 85110\n end_ms: 87070\n- text: If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n start_ms: 87070\n end_ms: 89490\n- text: Be +Downtown Swingin+, M.O.P. style\n start_ms: 89490\n end_ms: 91890\n- text: Next up!\n start_ms: 91890\n end_ms: 92490\n- text: Yo yo it's Funk D.O.C\n start_ms: 92490\n end_ms: 93520\n- text: Yo, you're on the mic to rock the Symphony\n start_ms: 93520\n end_ms: 96230\n- text: HeHAHHH! Yo yo\n start_ms: 96230\n end_ms: 96780\n- text: Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n start_ms: 96780\n end_ms: 99150\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n start_ms: 99150\n end_ms: 101640\n- text: Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n start_ms: 101640\n end_ms: 104100\n- text: At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n start_ms: 104100\n end_ms: 106790\n- text: It's Funk Doc, you know my name HOE\n start_ms: 106790\n end_ms: 108620\n- text: My style dirty underground, or Ukraine po'\n start_ms: 108620\n end_ms: 111180\n- text: When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit\n start_ms: 111180\n end_ms: 114450\n- text: Snatch the trap then I Dash like Damon did\n start_ms: 114450\n end_ms: 117020\n- text: Doc, walk _Thin Red Lines_ to shell shock\n start_ms: 117020\n end_ms: 119810\n- text: Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n start_ms: 119810\n end_ms: 122420\n- text: Hydro? Got more bags than bellhops\n start_ms: 122420\n end_ms: 125090\n- text: Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten PICTURE\n start_ms: 125090\n end_ms: 128470\n- text: Papichu', slayin crews in ICU\n start_ms: 128470\n end_ms: 130550\n- text: Battlin, usin hockey rules\n start_ms: 130550\n end_ms: 132340\n- text: For Keith Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools\n start_ms: 132340\n end_ms: 135010\n- text: Rollin down like dice in Yahtzee fool!\n start_ms: 135010\n end_ms: 137350\n- text: I \"Just Do It\" like Nike, outta 'Bama\n start_ms: 137350\n end_ms: 139910\n- text: With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n start_ms: 139910\n end_ms: 142880\n- text: Yo next up\n start_ms: 142880\n end_ms: 143560\n- text: It's the G-O-D\n start_ms: 143560\n end_ms: 144880\n- text: Yo yo, get on the mic for the Symphony\n start_ms: 144880\n end_ms: 147040\n- text: Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n start_ms: 147040\n end_ms: 149880\n- text: Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n start_ms: 149880\n end_ms: 152420\n- text: Huh, bad news bearin' they souls through rhyme and blues\n start_ms: 152420\n end_ms: 155150\n- text: '\"Hardcore!\" To make them brothers act fool'\n start_ms: 155150\n end_ms: 157760\n- text: Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n start_ms: 157760\n end_ms: 160210\n- text: Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n start_ms: 160210\n end_ms: 162850\n- text: Feelin like the mack inside a Cadillac Seville screech\n start_ms: 162850\n end_ms: 165150\n- text: Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville - fi-ga-ro!\n start_ms: 165150\n end_ms: 168330\n- text: The sky is fallin - GERONIMO!\n start_ms: 168330\n end_ms: 170280\n- text: I feel my high comin down. LOOKOUT BELOW!\n start_ms: 170280\n end_ms: 172840\n- text: AIYYO! Dead that roach clip and spark another\n start_ms: 172840\n end_ms: 176090\n- text: Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like Parker Brothers\n start_ms: 176090\n end_ms: 177820\n- text: I rock for the low-class, from Locash\n start_ms: 177820\n end_ms: 180340\n- text: The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n start_ms: 180340\n end_ms: 182780\n- text: Yeah yeah, the God on your block like Godzilla\n start_ms: 182780\n end_ms: 185250\n- text: Yeah, yeah—she gave away my pussy I'mma kill her\n start_ms: 185250\n end_ms: 188030\n- text: John John phenom-enon\n start_ms: 188030\n end_ms: 189630\n- text: In Japan they call me Ichiban\n start_ms: 189630\n end_ms: 191280\n- text: Wu-Tang Clan, numba won!\n start_ms: 191280\n end_ms: 192950\n- text: In the whole nine, I hold mine\n start_ms: 192950\n end_ms: 194750\n- text: Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n start_ms: 194750\n end_ms: 196870\n- text: Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just Meth\n start_ms: 196870\n end_ms: 200420\n- text: That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n start_ms: 200420\n end_ms: 202810\n- text: NEXT UP!\n start_ms: 202810\n end_ms: 204110\n- text: I believe that's me\n start_ms: 204110\n end_ms: 205740\n- text: BASTARD!\n start_ms: 205740\n end_ms: 205960\n- text: Get on the mic and rock the Symphony\n start_ms: 205960\n end_ms: 207820\n- text: Mrs. Stop Drop and Roll, rocks top the told\n start_ms: 207820\n end_ms: 210820\n- text: Hot, even though dames is froze\n start_ms: 210820\n end_ms: 212930\n- text: Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n start_ms: 212930\n end_ms: 215510\n- text: Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n start_ms: 215510\n end_ms: 218170\n- text: Y'all better change your flows, hear how Luck spittin?\n start_ms: 218170\n end_ms: 220820\n- text: Stay drunk-pissed in the S-Type, stay whippin screech\n start_ms: 220820\n end_ms: 223430\n- text: When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n start_ms: 223430\n end_ms: 225930\n- text: It's written, we in the game but ball different\n start_ms: 225930\n end_ms: 228580\n- text: Point game like Jordan, y'all play the role of Pippen\n start_ms: 228580\n end_ms: 230950\n- text: Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n start_ms: 230950\n end_ms: 233590\n- text: MAN LISTEN, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n start_ms: 233590\n end_ms: 235840\n- text: Like E and P's last CD, you're out of business\n start_ms: 235840\n end_ms: 238490\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 238490\nplain: |-\n Yeh. Erick Sermon. EPMD. check it\n Redman. Method Man. Lady Luck. Def Jam\n\n Erick and Parrish Millenium Ducats\n Hold me down, hold me down (echoes).\n Uhh. yo!\n I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine\n I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine\n Ill cat, slick talk, slang New York\n To break it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?\n Remember me? You punk faggot crab emcee\n Get your shit broke in half for fuckin around with P\n Aiyyo strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo\n Hey you, look nigga, one more strike you through\n Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, FUBU, and Phat Fi-darm\n Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron\n I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel\n We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools\n\n Next up!\n\n Yo I believe that's me\n Yo, get on the mic and rock the Symphony\n\n Yo P!\n Time to rock, the sound I got, it reigns hot\n Makin necks snap back, like a slingshot\n E hustle, and muscle my way in\n Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin\n Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it\n Then leave them like -- who done it?\n Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now\n When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, \"Wow!\"\n YO! I get looks when I'm in the place\n That's that nigga, makin you +Smile+ with Scarface\n Uhh, +It Ain't My Fault+, that my style Silkk enough to Shock ya\n Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a\n\n If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial\n Be +Downtown Swingin+, M.O.P. style\n\n Next up!\n\n Yo yo it's Funk D.O.C\n Yo, you're on the mic to rock the Symphony\n\n HeHAHHH! Yo yo\n Did you ever think you would catch a cap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get a slap?\n Yo did you ever think you would get robbed\n At gunpoint, stripped and thrown out the car?\n It's Funk Doc, you know my name HOE\n My style dirty underground, or Ukraine po'\n When it hits you, pain pumps Kool-Aid, through the vein and shit\n Snatch the trap then I Dash like Damon did\n Doc, walk _Thin Red Lines_ to shell shock\n Hairlock with fuckin broads in nail shops\n Hydro? Got more bags than bellhops\n Two thousand Benz on my eight by ten PICTURE\n Papichu', slayin crews in ICU\n Battlin, usin hockey rules\n\n For Keith Murray, Doc gon' cock these tools\n Rollin down like dice in Yahtzee fool!\n\n I \"Just Do It\" like Nike, outta 'Bama\n With ten kids with hammers, hooked to a camper!\n Yo next up\n\n It's the G-O-D\n Yo yo, get on the mic for the Symphony\n\n Youth on the move, payin them dues, nuttin to lose\n Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels\n Huh, bad news bearin' they souls through rhyme and blues\n \"Hardcore!\" To make them brothers act fool\n Hands on the steel, flip you heads over heel sniff\n Smell the daffodils from the lyric overkill sniff\n Feelin like the mack inside a Cadillac Seville screech\n Too ill, on cuts, the Barber of Seville - fi-ga-ro!\n The sky is fallin - GERONIMO!\n I feel my high comin down. LOOKOUT BELOW!\n AIYYO! Dead that roach clip and spark another\n Chickenhawks, playin theyselves like Parker Brothers\n I rock for the low-class, from Locash\n The broke-assed, even rock for trailer park trash\n Yeah yeah, the God on your block like Godzilla\n Yeah, yeah—she gave away my pussy I'mma kill her\n\n John John phenom-enon\n In Japan they call me Ichiban\n Wu-Tang Clan, numba won!\n In the whole nine, I hold mine\n\n Keep playin with it kid, you might go blind - jerkoff!\n Fuck them a.k.a., for now it's just Meth\n That's it, that's all, solo, single no more no less\n\n NEXT UP!\n I believe that's me\n BASTARD!\n Get on the mic and rock the Symphony\n\n Mrs. Stop Drop and Roll, rocks top the told\n Hot, even though dames is froze\n Pop close range at foes, and blaze them hoes\n Leave em with they brains exposed, and stains on clothes\n Y'all better change your flows, hear how Luck spittin?\n Stay drunk-pissed in the S-Type, stay whippin screech\n When the guns spittin, duck or get hittin\n It's written, we in the game but ball different\n Point game like Jordan, y'all play the role of Pippen\n Style switchin, like tight ass after stickin\n MAN LISTEN, stop your cryin and your bitchin\n Like E and P's last CD, you're out of business\n"}]