Luyện nghe bài hát Down for The Count

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

Convertible style, had the heat knockin
Bumpin shit from way back my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm with these
You'll be suckin it down like fast high-see's
Type of rap that love underground classics
Gettin more 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 joints get in
Worse than boric acid in project cabinet
Dirty Harriet, the fanbases
Leavin cats stuck on the plantations
with tights, eatin lunch with whites
Leave the party over here they Israelites
Got Cali critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit
Gonna rock shit down like he can't get no

One, two, three,
Rock the whole world like the Rolling tour
Raw your wack set is faker a bomb threat
By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his wet
One, two, three,
The stuff legends are made of, folklore
Like Jim we break on through
Before I care about 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 in the light while why'all hate in the dark
Straight to apocalypse is I'm takin the art
Givin battle scars, ALWAYS makin my mark
You the part of gangster, til niggaz break in your spot
You straight bitch I say it or not
is hot, spittin flames on the track
Put our names on the map
From now we fadin to black
Where we at? Thug rebels love metal clubs
When the let go like Frankie Beverly
Forever we stack like the treasury, flow heavenly
Get you on speech laced with obscenity
Niggaz be gassed like Cipher Sounds, and rescue remedy
fall the fuck off like limbs affected with leprosy

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

I'm I-rate, your body for live bait
Xzibit rockin them heavy gems you can't
Dilate, cock back the weight, hate
Heavy metal we settle and set straight
Hit gates in my younger days, 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, while you find it to stick to your lie
I see the tricks, destroy the facade
Your lungs is too weak to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, Lady of the Flipmode Squad
Gotta be hard like a young nigga 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 door bitchin because you ain't on the list

It's
One, two, three,