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 from high
One, two, three,
Jersey's finest in the house, punchlines and
Make your ice grill, thug grimy on the real
heads to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil

Convertible style, still had the heat
Bumpin shit from way back my man beatboxin
the breeze - see I'm nice with these
You'll be suckin it down like fast high-see's
Type of rap bitch that underground classics
more green than that nigga St. Patrick
Makin wack rappers go and the set {*dial-up sounds*}
Better off behind a tryin to surf the net
Cause I be adamant, kill 'em when my joints get in
Worse boric acid in your project cabinet
Dirty Harriet, the fanbases
Leavin non-writin cats stuck on the
with tights, eatin lunch with whites
Leave the party here like they Israelites
Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??)
Gonna rock shit down like he get no visits

One, two, three,
the whole world like the Rolling Stone tour
Raw wack set is faker than a bomb threat
By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his wet
One, two, three,
The stuff legends are made of, 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 face from the start, yo
Rage Against the Machine, it apart
Might be your head, but it's straight 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
niggaz battle scars, ALWAYS makin my mark
You the part 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
From now we fadin to black
Where we at? rebels love metal clubs ghetto
When the slugs let go like Beverly
Forever we notes like the treasury, flow heavenly
Get you high on speech laced obscenity
Niggaz be gassed Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy
fall the fuck off like limbs affected with leprosy

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

I'm I-rate, usin your body for bait
Xzibit rockin them heavy you can't take
Dilate, cock the weight, spread hate
metal we settle and set shit straight
Hit gates in my days, from the policeman
Me and my used to dance thicker than quicksand
Supply and the hand is quicker than the eye
Find some chickens to fry, while you find it hard to to your lie
I see through the tricks, the facade
Your little lungs is too weak to hotbox God
Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode
Gotta be hard like a young walkin the yard
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 the fifth
You at the front bitchin because you ain't on the list

like
One, two, three,