Luyện nghe bài hát Down for the Count

One, two, three,
Grimy bitch stomp the bogey your front door (yeah)
Puffin on Goodie, tuna and rye
Blow the spot with some old shit from junior high
One, two, three,
Jersey's finest in the house, and metaphors
Make your foul ice grill, thug on the real
Puttin heads to bed like and NyQuil

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

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

Yo, yo, yo
We bring it straight to face from the start, yo
Rage Against the Machine, break it
Might be over your head, but it's straight the heart
I my love in the light while why'all hate in the dark
Straight to apocalypse is where I'm the art
Givin niggaz battle scars, ALWAYS makin my
You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz break in spot
You straight whether I say it or not
Shit is hot, flames on the track
Put our names on the map
From now we fadin to black
we at? Thug rebels love metal clubs ghetto
When the slugs let go like 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 fuck can't MC no more?
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?
through, your favorite neighborhood lush

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

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One, two, three,