Luyện nghe bài hát Down for the Count

One, two, three,
Grimy bitch the bogey outside your front door (yeah)
on Goodie, eatin tuna and rye
Blow the spot with some old school shit junior high
One, two, three,
Jersey's in the house, punchlines and metaphors
your foul ice grill, thug grimy on the real
Puttin heads to bed like Hennessey and

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

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

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

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

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

It's
One, two, three,