Luyện nghe bài hát Down for the Count

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

Convertible style, still had the knockin
shit from way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the - see I'm nice with these
You'll be suckin it down like fast food
Type of rap that love underground classics
Gettin green than that nigga St. Patrick
Makin wack rappers go and merc the set sounds*}
Better off behind a desk to surf the net
Cause I be adamant, 'em when my joints get added in
Worse boric acid in your project cabinet
Harriet, increase the fanbases
Leavin cats stuck on the plantations
with tights, eatin lunch with whites
Leave the party over here like Israelites
Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??)
Gonna rock shit like he can't get no visits

One, two, three,
Rock the world like the Rolling Stone tour
Raw wack set is faker than a bomb threat
By a nervous terrorist so scared that his palms wet
One, two, three,
The legends are made of, urban folklore
Jim Morrison we break on through
Before I care about take on me, we take on you

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

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

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

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One, two, three,