Talib Kweli - Down For The Count lyrics

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Talib Kweli - Down For The Count lyrics

(Rah Digga) Yeh, check it out now (uhh uhh uhh) Rah Digga y'all, Dirty Harriet (uhh!) Kweli, Xzibit, new millenium! (C'mon, check it) (All) One, two, three, four (R.D) Grimy b**h stomp the bogey outside your front door (yeah) Puffin on Goodie, eatin tuna and rye Blow the spot with some old school sh** from junior high (HEYYY!) (All) One, two, three, four (R.D) Jersey's finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors Make your foul ice grill, thug grimy on the real Puttin heads to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil (Rah Digga) Convertible style, still had the heat knockin Bumpin sh** from way back with my man beatboxin Shootin the breeze - see I'm nice with these You'll be s**in it down like fast food high-C's Type of rap b**h that love underground cla**ics Gettin more green than that n***a St. Patrick Makin wack rappers go and merc the set {*dial-up sounds*} Better off behind a desk tryin to surf the net Cause I be adamant, k** 'em when my joints get added in Worse than boric acid in your project cabinet Dirty Harriet, increase the fanbases Leavin non-writin cats stuck on the plantations Mini-skirts with tights, eatin lunch with whites Leave the party over here like they Israelites Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit Gonna rock sh** down like he can't get no visits (All) One, two, three, four (T) Rock the whole world like the Rolling Stone tour (AH-AHHH!) Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb threat By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet (All) One, two, three, four (T) The stuff legends are made of, urban folklore Like Jim Morrison we break on through Before I care about your take on me, we take on you (Talib Kweli) Yo, yo, yo We bring it straight to your face from the start, yo Rage Against the Machine, break it apart Might be over your head, but it's straight from the heart I show my love in the light while y'all hate in the dark Straight to apocalypse is where I'm takin the art Givin n***as battle scars, ALWAYS makin my mark You fakin the part of gangster, til n***as break in your spot You straight b**h whether I say it or not sh** is hot, spittin flames on the track Put our town's names on the map From now until we fadin to black Where we at? Thug rebels love metal clubs ghetto When the slugs let go like Frankie Beverly Forever we stack notes like the treasury, flow heavenly Get you high on speech laced with obscenity n***as be ga**ed like Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy Then fall the f** off like limbs affected with leprosy (All) One, two, three, four (X) Why the f** can't MC's MC no more? Hardcore til somebody put me under the ground With a dick in your ear, still couldn't f** with my sound (All} One, two, three, four (X) Takin me straight to the weed spot, then to the liquor sto' "Gimme Some Mo'" like Busta Bus', who do you trust? Swingin through, your favorite neighborhood lush (Xzibit) I'm i-rate, usin your body for live bait Xzibit rockin them heavy gems you can't take Dilate, co*k back the weight, spread hate Heavy metal we settle and set sh** straight Hit gates in my younger days, from the policeman Me and my clan used to dance thicker than quicksand Supply and demand the hand is quicker than the eye Find some chickens to fry, while you find it hard to stick to your lie I see through the tricks, destroy the facade Your little lungs is too weak to hotbox with God Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode Squad Gotta be hard like a young n***a walkin the yard For the first time, we ain't the n***as you let shine Expect mines to blow lines like coke everytime I'm an Alkaholik n***a so I finish the fifth You at the front door b**hin because you ain't on the list It's like (All) One, two, three, four.. Yeah (ohhhhhhh) hehehe (aight y'all, aight y'all..) Yeah (here we go) (All) One, two, three, four..