Luyện nghe bài hát Down for the Count

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

Convertible style, still had the heat
Bumpin shit from way back with my man
Shootin the breeze - see I'm with these
You'll be suckin it down like fast high-see's
Type of rap bitch that underground classics
more green than that nigga St. Patrick
Makin wack rappers go and merc the set {*dial-up
Better off a desk tryin to surf the net
Cause I be adamant, 'em when my joints get added in
Worse than boric acid in your project
Harriet, increase the fanbases
Leavin cats stuck on the plantations
Mini-skirts with tights, eatin with whites
Leave the party over here like Israelites
Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??)
Gonna rock shit down like he get no visits

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

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

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

I'm I-rate, usin your body for live
Xzibit rockin them heavy you can't take
Dilate, cock the weight, spread hate
Heavy metal we settle and set shit
Hit gates in my younger days, from the
Me and my clan used to thicker than quicksand
Supply and demand the hand is 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 lungs is too to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode
Gotta be hard like a nigga walkin the yard
For the first time, we ain't the niggaz you let
Expect mines to blow like coke everytime
I'm an nigga so I finish the fifth
You at the front door bitchin you ain't on the list

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One, two, three,