Luyện nghe bài hát Down for The Count

One, two, three,
Grimy bitch stomp the outside your front door (yeah)
on Goodie, eatin 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
shit from way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm with these
You'll be it down like fast food high-see's
Type of rap bitch that underground classics
Gettin more than that nigga St. Patrick
Makin wack go and merc the set {*dial-up sounds*}
off behind a desk tryin to surf the net
Cause I be adamant, kill 'em when my get added in
Worse than boric acid in your cabinet
Dirty Harriet, the fanbases
Leavin cats stuck on the plantations
with tights, eatin lunch with whites
Leave the over here like they Israelites
Got Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit
Gonna rock shit like he can't get no visits

One, two, three,
Rock the whole world like the Rolling Stone
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 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 the Machine, break it apart
Might be over your head, but it's from the heart
I show my love in the light why'all hate in the dark
Straight to apocalypse is where I'm the art
Givin niggaz scars, ALWAYS makin my mark
You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz in your spot
You bitch whether 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 slugs let go like Frankie
we stack notes like the treasury, flow heavenly
Get you high on speech laced with
be gassed like Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy
Then 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 couldn't fuck with my
One, two, three,
Takin me to the weed spot, then to the liquor sto'
"Gimme Some Mo'" like Busta Bus', who do you
Swingin through, favorite neighborhood lush

I'm I-rate, usin your body for live
rockin them heavy gems you can't take
Dilate, cock the weight, spread hate
Heavy metal we settle and set straight
Hit gates in my days, from the policeman
Me and my clan used to thicker than quicksand
Supply and demand the hand is quicker the eye
Find some chickens to fry, while you it hard to stick to your lie
I see through the tricks, the facade
Your little is too weak to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, First Lady of the 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 like coke
I'm an Alkaholik nigga so I finish the
You at the front door bitchin you ain't on the list

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One, two, three,