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Ghetto Symphony Feat. Mia X, F
Snoop Dogg
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Yo, nephew, give me some of that No Limit shit
Yeah, we got my nigga Fiend in the house
C-Murder in this motherfucker
Mystikal all up in this bitch
Goldie Loc, hm-hm
My nephew, Silkk The Shocker
Oh yeah, we got somethin' for the ladies too
Mia X, run this bitch
Lyrical arsonist, lady alligator
Down south, hustler, former weight smuggler
I'm mother of the tank, gave birth to an army
Guerilla millionaires, so don't even ask, if you wanna
Get to clappin, soldier action specialty of style
We made the whole world respect the underground while
Some of y'all niggas talk shit and get mad
'Cause we did it with a foot up your ass, and it's still there
I care not about your click or your block
I'm still that same bitch to run up in your spot and knock you off
Broad with the cause, bitch on a mission
Keep them niggas by they nuts, while you hoes be dick kissin'
Missin' the game, damn bitch, it's written in plain ebonics
So shake that come-up off you brain and do the knowledge
Mia X, kickin' off the ghetto symphony
Next soldier up, tell 'em who the fuck you be (Fiend)
It's Fiend, y'all
Put me in the ring with real MC's, and watch 'em run for cover
And hidin' in trees, to escape the mic that I breathe on
Bleed on, exceed on
Weak rappers with titles after 12
Hit a bell, that's what I feed on
Microphone don, walkin' flesh, talkin' bomb
Bringin' harm to the calm and them be alarmed
It's the african, oh, you wanna battle again?
I'll turn, you and your mans, to my yesterday plans
Oh damn, totin' two pistols like Yosemite Sam
Old man be grand, loud as the southern band
Pickups and caravans, the soldier, that could, that can
I would be the man, but Dogg beat me to them plans
Next up, on the M-I-C
C-Murder, get busy for the symphony
I be's that nigga on the tank, always trippin' never slippin'
Have you reminiscin' and missin' that fool in your picture
Call me Bossalinie, bitch, without the mo's at shows
And fuck those who oppose (why?) We runnin' them hoes
Three hundred and sixty five motherfuckin' days a year
I have your fool staggerin' just like a bottle of beer
You niggas runnin' from the cops, well, I ain't runnin no mo'
I flip the bird when I swerve, man, fuck them hoes (fuck them hoes)
I'm crazy, my nagga, but uh, I thought y'all knew that, shit
Oh you ain't see the news? Shit, i'm the nigga with the true tat'
Ask my nigga Keno, shit, I just don't give a fuck
And if you run up wrong, I'ma fuck you up, you bitch you
Next up, on the M-I-C
Silkk The Shocker get busy on the symphony
Now, would I come this far, fucker, if I didn't sound like a hit
Y'all didn't know what the fuck y'all thinkin 'bout
You sound like a bitch (bitch)
Shit, it sound like a wish, you know when you got a motherfuckin' hit
Bitch, when it sound like this
Or you fake niggas get enough heart
And try to bust a rhyme at this click
Fuck around and miss, fuck around and get found in a ditch
Got labels who give me dough, when they find I can gross this much
Freestyle shit, you can tell 'em I ain't wrote this stuff
Silkk The Shocker, KLC Perv and Mash like Snoop and Dre nigga
Y'all can relate to? I'm tryin' to get a contract like MJ, nigga
Nigga where you from? You sweater, fuck you at?
N-O-L-I-M-I-T, top dog, and I'm fuckin' with that
Next up, on the M-I-C
Mystikal get busy on the symphony
Whoo, shit, motherfucker, goddamn
I keep it hype, bitch, I'm the man
When the fuck you ever heard somebody say that they don't sing my song
Or that I don't roll on every fuckin' person rappin' on
That nigga Mystikal tighter than a motherfucker
I came up off of Peter Piper bells and the LL's bad?
Nee nigga be pissed off with me
'Cause they old lady, they call me their baby
MC's pilin' up and crowdin' up, but I'm their favorite
The type to fly, buyin' a Z28 Iroc
And chop you in your motherfuckin' face (heya)
Your album ain't tight, what in the fuck is you pushin'?
You played out just like old woman pussy
Next up, on the M-I-C
Goldie Loc, get busy on the symphony
Now watch me put these haters to the test, accumulatin' with my stress
Fold 'em, fuck 'em fifty, get the shit up off my chest
Releasin' anger, all natural gangsta energy
Goldie Loc the name, Dogg house game
Motherfuckers better start backin' up (what up, what up)
We in the tank, punk busters
Motherfuckers don't wanna see us locked up
Little Goldie Loc, goldie locks the same thing
Smashin' for the hood, cause I wanted to gangbang
Last up, I believe that's me
Snoop Dogg, light up the mic for the symphony
This jam is dedicated to all non-optimistics
That thought I wasn't comin' out with some exquisite rhymes
But that's ok, 'cause now I'm back
To kill all the rumors, and straighten the facts
Like doin' bad, gettin ganked for my bank
Now you all on my dick when you see I'm a true tank, dog
You say, hm-hm-hm, ain't that somethin'
Dogg, I bought yo' album, my nigga, that shit is bumpin'
I apologize, I'm sorry for the drama
Can I get your autograph for my baby momma?
Shit, I'm settin' it off, lettin' it off, bustin'
Hustlin', rushin', dustin' motherfuckers
Droppin' the heat, lock up the street, we 'posed to
I put this pistol in your mouth, now what you gon' do?
Top of the line, first class (first class)
I pop a cap in yo' ass, then pop some more in the glass
Too legit to quit, I'm spittin' gangsta shit
Man, fuck all that yappin', we 'bout that gun clappin'
No limit (no limit), yeah, that's what's happenin'
Fuck all that yappin', we 'bout that gun clappin'
Yeah, in the real world, talk is cheap
Actions speak louder than words
No Limit Records, here to protect and serve
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