Symphony 2000 Songtext
von Kool G Rap

Now y′all already know, I don't care who′s first or who last
But even though it's a new millennium
You still got to rock this to the drop of a dime, baby

Fuck y'all niggas want? Is it truck? Well, you got it
Bet this gun blast to your chest′ll leave your moms broken-hearted
Get me started, come up against this? Is you retarded?
I ain′t shit on you motherfuckers yet, I only farted
This is the dopest nigga from my borough, that's Kris, put him my my shit
The hottest Latino rapper Big Pun up on this fly shit
G Rap the sole survivor with Truck kills all the nonsense
When Marley doin′ a track, it's big, I mean Jurassic

Like Coke, this shit′s a classic, from the cradle to the casket
Gonna blow from Bangkok to Brooklyn, Beijing to the Boogie Down
Then back to my block, cops follow the trail that lead back to me
And where I'm from with two Glocks, blow your balls off like 2Pac
Go clutch, the Holy Cross can′t save you
Still gonna be a holocaust, Truck Turner, show no remorse
Go 'head nigga, floss, but don't be around when the sun go down
I′ll rob you, then gun you down, the .44 make a thunder sound


Rush in like Hunter Grant, I′ma count to ten, don't turn around
You see my face, I′ma blaze you, then let off another round
And another round 'til your family put you underground
I told you kid, I let you down, spray you down, claim your town
Bronx bound, team play, don′t play around
Who am I? Truck Turner, you're learnin′ now
No matter where you from, I'm the arsonist, I'll burn it down

Don′t fuck with that boy
Next up
Soy Castigador aqui
(Boriqua, light up the mic for the symphony)

Wack rappers I humiliate like half a mic in The Source
Blast you right off of the stage and engrave a butcher knife in your corpse
What you writin′ is soft, I'm Pearl Harbor war
Run up on your small empire and spray your tires like you Armor All
Who wanna brawl with the Bronx finest?
Chop your eyelids off and infect your thoughts like a monster virus
HIV, I know you hate my stee′
'Cause I′m the son of Tony, you phony like fake ID


It's the S-H-I-T, you can smell it
Gun smoke makin′ you choke, take a toke and inhale it
Now you can feel it, deep inside your lungs
Like hot pellets when you're shot up, we supply the guns
Now where you from? State's your resting zone
I′m from the BX, B′lawn is where T.S. call home, where KRS was born
Let it be known if I don't get you watch for our God
′Cause when you diss Kris, you're disrespectin′ my squad

Put that on my mother, motherfucker
How dare you disrespect?

Ayo, we comin' through with the fifth and Glocks
Rippin′ shots and hittin' blocks
Leavin' kids rocked, put in the hittin′ box
Splittin′ tops, leave your face hot, dotted like chickenpox
Clinch the cops with blood L sniffin' socks, sticks and rocks
No trace, get your clique robbed, your wig slugged, your shit plugged
Catch a big mug, topless just like a chick with big jugs
Up in the strip club, rivers of blood
No cough, we blowtorch like auto mechanics

You order the panic, to slaughter you bandits
Your daughter be planted inside the ground more than the granite
My gunshots will make you orbit the planet
Bruce of evil, peepin′ up all legal, all illegal
The .44's are lethal, cop after cats
I pop the wheelies like Knievel, five shots to rent-a-regals
Leave all your peoples with palsy in they cerebrals
Deadly as a addict′s needle, let automatics reap you
Sweep you, I'm sendin′ you to Lucifer to keep you
Heat you, nail you to the cross on top of the church's steeple
Red dots cover your face like the measles

Next up
(I believe that's me)
Ayo (KRS!), light up the mic for the symphony (yo, yo, yo)

Bitch ass, here′s a quick class
I′m the blast master 'cause I blast and whip ass
This′ll be over quick fast
Keep mixin' it, spittin′ it, bendin' it, did it
Like juice with gin in it, haha, jackpot we winnin′ it
You talk that shit, but you really illiterate
Readin' shit like "Hehehe, te-te-te-te"
Tell a press sound out the word, connect the noun with the verb
Stick with ver-ver-verb verb 'cause the battle′s absurd

Don′t let these young kids go soup that ass up
You get smashed up, you gassed up, you put that ass up really?
I don't even see you in the new millennium
I see you like on VH1 with Milli Vanilli an′ 'em?
Talkin′ about what you used to have, your abusive dad
Oh, it's so so sad, ′cause I'm just so so death-defyin'
Mesmerizin′, every time you say you dope, that′s false advertisin'
But it′s not surprisin', you lyin′

You ain't no battle hog, what you got?
One demo against my 12-year catalog?
Back up! This is the Bronx in the house
Truck Turner, KRS without a doubt

And y′all rippin' my damn microphone, y'all ain′t nothin′
Kool G Rap, Big Punisher, my man Truck Turner, KRS-One
Y'all never get on my damn microphone again, y′all crazy