Luyện nghe bài hát Down for The Count

One, two, three,
Grimy stomp the bogey 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 in the house, punchlines and metaphors
Make your foul ice grill, thug on the real
Puttin to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil

style, still had the heat knockin
Bumpin shit from way back with my man
Shootin the breeze - see I'm nice these
You'll be suckin it like fast food high-see's
of rap bitch that love underground classics
Gettin more green that nigga St. Patrick
wack rappers go and merc the set {*dial-up sounds*}
Better off behind a desk tryin to the net
I be adamant, kill 'em when my joints get added in
Worse than boric acid in your cabinet
Harriet, increase the fanbases
Leavin non-writin cats stuck on the
Mini-skirts with tights, eatin lunch whites
Leave the party here like 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 Stone tour
Raw your set is faker than a bomb threat
By a nervous 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 your take on me, we take on you

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

One, two, three,
Why the fuck can't MC no more?
Hardcore til somebody put me 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, your favorite neighborhood

I'm I-rate, usin your for live bait
Xzibit rockin them heavy you can't take
Dilate, cock the weight, spread hate
Heavy metal we settle and set straight
Hit gates in my younger days, the policeman
Me and my clan used to dance thicker quicksand
Supply and demand the hand is quicker the eye
Find some to fry, while you find it hard to stick to your lie
I see the tricks, destroy the facade
Your lungs is too weak to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode
Gotta be hard like a nigga walkin the yard
For the time, we ain't the niggaz you let shine
Expect mines to lines like coke everytime
I'm an Alkaholik so I finish the fifth
You at the front door bitchin because you ain't on the

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One, two, three,