Ghetto Symphony

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