Luyện nghe bài hát Down for The Count

One, two, three,
bitch stomp the bogey outside your front door (yeah)
Puffin on Goodie, eatin and rye
Blow the spot with some old school shit from junior
One, two, three,
Jersey's 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 heat
shit from way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm with these
be suckin it down like fast food high-see's
Type of rap bitch that underground classics
Gettin more than that nigga St. Patrick
Makin wack rappers go and the set {*dial-up sounds*}
Better off behind a desk tryin to the net
Cause I be adamant, kill 'em my joints get added in
Worse than boric acid in project cabinet
Dirty Harriet, the fanbases
Leavin cats stuck on the plantations
Mini-skirts with tights, lunch with whites
Leave the party over here like they
Got Cali critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit
Gonna rock shit down like he get no visits

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

Yo, yo, yo
We it straight to your face from the start, yo
Rage Against the Machine, it apart
Might be over your head, but straight from the heart
I show my love in the light while why'all hate in the
Straight to apocalypse is I'm takin the art
Givin niggaz battle scars, ALWAYS my mark
You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz break in your
You straight bitch 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? rebels love metal clubs ghetto
When the slugs let go like Frankie
Forever we stack notes the treasury, flow heavenly
Get you on speech laced with obscenity
Niggaz be gassed like Cipher Sounds, and need rescue
Then fall the fuck off like limbs with leprosy

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

I'm I-rate, usin body for live bait
Xzibit rockin them gems you can't take
Dilate, cock back the weight, spread
Heavy metal we and set shit straight
Hit gates in my days, from the policeman
Me and my used to dance thicker than quicksand
Supply and demand the hand is quicker the eye
Find some chickens to fry, you find it hard to stick to your lie
I see through the tricks, destroy the
Your little is too weak to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, Lady of the Flipmode Squad
Gotta be hard like a young walkin the yard
For the first time, we 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 because you ain't on the list

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One, two, three,