Luyện nghe bài hát Down for the Count

One, two, three,
bitch stomp the bogey outside your front door (yeah)
Puffin on Goodie, tuna and rye
Blow the with some old school shit from junior high
One, two, three,
finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors
Make foul ice grill, thug grimy on the real
Puttin heads to bed Hennessey and NyQuil

Convertible style, still had the knockin
shit from way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm with these
You'll be it down like fast food high-see's
Type of rap bitch love underground classics
Gettin more green than that nigga St.
Makin wack rappers go and the set {*dial-up sounds*}
Better off behind a desk tryin to the net
I be adamant, kill 'em when my joints get added in
Worse than acid in your project cabinet
Dirty Harriet, the fanbases
Leavin non-writin stuck on the plantations
Mini-skirts with tights, eatin lunch with
Leave the over here like they Israelites
Got Cali critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit
Gonna shit down like he can't get no visits

One, two, three,
Rock the whole world like the Stone tour
Raw your wack set is than a bomb threat
By a nervous who's so scared that his palms wet
One, two, three,
The stuff legends are of, urban folklore
Like Jim Morrison we on through
Before I care your take on me, we take on you

Yo, yo, yo
We it straight to your face from the start, yo
Against the Machine, break it apart
Might be over head, but it's straight from the heart
I show my in the light while why'all hate in the dark
Straight to apocalypse is where I'm the art
niggaz battle scars, ALWAYS makin my mark
You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz in your spot
You bitch whether I say it or not
is hot, spittin flames on the track
Put our town's on the map
From now until we fadin to
Where we at? rebels love metal clubs ghetto
When the slugs let go like Beverly
Forever we notes like the treasury, flow heavenly
Get you high on laced with obscenity
Niggaz be gassed Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy
Then fall the fuck off limbs affected with leprosy

One, two, three,
Why the fuck can't MC's MC no
Hardcore til somebody put me under the
With a in your ear, still couldn't fuck with my sound
One, two, three,
Takin me straight to the weed spot, then to the sto'
"Gimme Mo'" like Busta Bus', who do you trust?
Swingin through, your neighborhood lush

I'm I-rate, usin your body for live
rockin them heavy gems you can't take
Dilate, cock the weight, spread hate
Heavy metal we settle and set shit
Hit gates in my days, from the policeman
Me and my clan used to dance thicker quicksand
Supply and the hand is quicker than the eye
Find some chickens to fry, while you find it to stick to your lie
I see through the tricks, destroy the
Your little is too weak to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode
be hard like a young nigga walkin the yard
For the time, we ain't the niggaz you let shine
Expect mines to blow lines coke everytime
I'm an nigga so I finish the fifth
You at the front door bitchin because you ain't on the

It's
One, two, three,