Luyện nghe bài hát Down for The Count

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

style, still had the heat knockin
Bumpin shit way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm nice with
You'll be it down like fast food high-see's
Type of rap bitch that underground classics
Gettin more green than 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 my joints get added in
Worse boric acid in your project cabinet
Harriet, increase the fanbases
Leavin cats stuck on the plantations
with tights, eatin lunch with whites
Leave the party over like they Israelites
Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??)
Gonna rock 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 a bomb threat
By a nervous terrorist who's so scared his palms wet
One, two, three,
The stuff legends are made of, folklore
Jim Morrison 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 Against the Machine, break it
Might be your head, but it's straight from the heart
I show my love in the while why'all hate in the dark
to apocalypse is where I'm takin the art
Givin niggaz battle scars, ALWAYS my mark
You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz break in spot
You bitch whether I say it or not
Shit is hot, flames on the track
Put our names on the map
From now until we fadin to
Where we at? rebels love metal clubs ghetto
When the let go like Frankie Beverly
Forever we stack notes like the treasury, flow
Get you on speech laced with obscenity
Niggaz be gassed like Sounds, and need rescue remedy
Then fall the fuck off like affected with leprosy

One, two, three,
Why the fuck MC's MC no more?
Hardcore til somebody put me under the
a dick in your ear, still couldn't fuck with my sound
One, two, three,
me straight 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 for live bait
Xzibit rockin them heavy gems you take
Dilate, cock back the weight, spread
Heavy metal we and set shit straight
Hit gates in my younger days, from the
Me and my clan used to dance thicker than
Supply and demand the hand is quicker the eye
some chickens to fry, while you find it hard to stick to your lie
I see through the tricks, destroy the
Your little is too weak to hotbox with God
Rah Digga, First Lady of the Squad
be hard like a young nigga walkin the yard
For the first time, we the niggaz you let shine
Expect mines to blow like coke everytime
I'm an Alkaholik nigga so I finish the
You at the front door because you ain't on the list

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One, two, three,