Luyện nghe bài hát Down for The Count

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

Convertible style, had the heat knockin
Bumpin from way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm with these
be suckin it down like fast food high-see's
Type of rap bitch that underground classics
Gettin green than that nigga St. Patrick
Makin wack rappers go and merc the set 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
Dirty Harriet, the fanbases
Leavin cats stuck on the plantations
Mini-skirts tights, eatin lunch with whites
the party over here like they Israelites
Got Cali critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit
Gonna rock shit down like he get no visits

One, two, three,
Rock the whole world like the Rolling tour
Raw wack set is faker than a bomb threat
By a nervous terrorist who's so that his palms wet
One, two, three,
The stuff are made of, urban folklore
Jim Morrison we break on through
Before I care about your on me, we take on you

Yo, yo, yo
We bring it straight to your face the start, yo
Rage the Machine, break it apart
be over your head, but it's straight from the heart
I my love in the light while why'all hate in the dark
to apocalypse is where I'm takin the art
Givin battle scars, ALWAYS makin my mark
You fakin the part of gangster, til break in your spot
You bitch whether I say it or not
is hot, spittin flames 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 Frankie Beverly
we stack notes like the treasury, flow heavenly
Get you high on laced with obscenity
Niggaz be gassed like Cipher Sounds, and need remedy
Then fall the fuck off like limbs affected with

One, two, three,
Why the fuck can't MC no more?
til somebody 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 Bus', who do you trust?
Swingin through, your neighborhood lush

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

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One, two, three,