Truck Turner, KRS-One, Kool G Rap, Big Pun - Symphony 2000 (Symphony 2000 / Who Am I) lyrics

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

Fuck y'all niggas want?! Is it Truck
Well you got it bet this gunblast
Seek your chest and leave
Your moms brokenhearted
Get me started, come up against THIS
Is you RETARDED'?!
I ain't shit on you motherfuckers yet
I only farted take the dopest nigga from
My borough, that's Kris, put him on my shit
The hottest latino rapper Big Pun
Up on this fly shit
G rap the sole survivor with Truck
Kills all the nonsense
With Marley doin the track it's big
I mean jurassic
Like Coke this is 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
I'm waitin for 'em with 2 Glocks
Blow they balls off like 2Pac
Go clutch, the holy drawers, can't save you
Still gonna be a holocaust
Truck TUrner show no remorse
Go 'head nigga, FLOSS'!
We gon' be around when the sun
Go down to rob you then gun you down
The fo'-fo' make a thunder sound
Rush in like, hug the ground I'ma count to
10 don't turn around
You see my face? I'ma blaze you
Lettin in off, another round
And another round
'Til your family, put your underground
I told you kid, I lay you down
Spray you down, claim your town, Bronx bound
A team player don't play around
Who am I? Truck Turner, you're learnin now
NO matter, where you FROM, I'm the arsonist
I burn it down
(Don't fuck with that boy NEXT UP)

Soy, con? aqui
(boricua - light up the mic for the symphony)
Whack 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'chu 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
Talk your highness? thicker force
Like our monster rhymers
Hate y'all B, 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
(what?) Deep inside your lungs
Like hot pellets when you're shot up
We supply the guns
Now where you from state your restin zone
I'm from the BX, B'lawn is
Where TS 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 disrespectin MY SQUAD
Put that on my mother, motherfucker
How DARE you disrespect, BITCH'!

Aiyyo we comin through with
The fifth and Glock, rippin shots
And hittin blocks, leavin kids rocked
Put in a hidden box
Splittin tops, leave his face hot
Dotted like chickenpox
Cursin cops with bloodhounds, sniffin socks
Sniffin rocks no trace, get your clique
Rubbed, your wigs plugged, the shit blood
Catch your big mug
Topless just like a chick with big jugs
Up in the strip club, beer is a Bud
No coffee blowtorch like auto mechanics
You ordered to panic
She slaughter you bandit's, your
Daughter be planted, inside the ground
More than the granite
My gunshots'll make you orbit the planet
"Roots of Evil" peepin up
All legal or illegal
The four-fours are lethal
Cock back the gat to pop
The wheelies like Knievel
Fire shots to rented Regals
Leave all your peoples with
Palsy in they cerebrals
Deadly as an 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)
Aiyyo KRS light up the mic for the symphony

Yo, yo, yo - BITCH ASS'! Here's a quick class
I'm the Blastmaster 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 - ha ha JACKPOT, we winnin it
You talk that shit, but you really illiterate
Read your shit like he he he, teh teh teh teh
Sound out the word
Connect the noun with the verb
Stick with b-b-b-bird-bird cause
The battle's absurd!
Don't let these young kids go
Soup that ass up
You'll get smashed up, you gassed up
You puttin that ass up really?
I don't even see you in the new milline-um
I see you like on VH1
With Milli Vanilli an' them
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 catalogue?
(NIGGA) Back up'! This is the
Bronx in the house
Truck Turner, KRS without a doubt!

Now y'all rippin my damn microphone
Down to nothin
Kool G rap, Big Punisher, my man Truck Turner
KRS-One, y'all never get on
My damn microphone again
Y'all crazy! get out of here, beat it!