Luyện nghe bài hát Down for The Count

One, two, three,
Grimy bitch stomp the bogey outside your door (yeah)
Puffin on Goodie, tuna and rye
Blow the spot with some old school shit junior high
One, two, three,
finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors
Make your foul ice grill, thug grimy on the
heads to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil

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

One, two, three,
Rock the whole like the Rolling Stone tour
Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb
By a terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet
One, two, three,
The legends are made of, urban folklore
Jim Morrison 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, break it
Might be over your head, but straight from the heart
I show my love in the light while hate in the dark
Straight to apocalypse is I'm takin the art
niggaz battle scars, ALWAYS makin my mark
You fakin the of gangster, til niggaz break in your spot
You straight whether I say it or not
Shit is hot, spittin on the track
Put our town's on the map
now until we fadin to black
Where we at? Thug rebels love metal ghetto
When the let go like Frankie Beverly
we stack notes like the treasury, flow heavenly
Get you high on speech laced obscenity
Niggaz be gassed Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy
Then fall the fuck off like affected with leprosy

One, two, three,
Why the can't MC's MC no more?
Hardcore til somebody put me under the
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 your body for live
Xzibit rockin them gems you can't take
Dilate, back the weight, spread hate
Heavy we settle and set shit straight
Hit gates in my younger days, the policeman
Me and my used to dance thicker than quicksand
and demand the hand is quicker than the eye
Find some chickens to fry, while you find it hard to to your lie
I see the tricks, destroy the facade
Your little lungs is too to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, Lady of the Flipmode Squad
Gotta be hard like a young nigga walkin the
For the time, we ain't the niggaz you let shine
Expect mines to blow lines 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,