Reflection Eternal, Rah Digga, Xzibit - Down for the Count lyrics

Yeh, check it out now (uhh uhh uhh)
Rah Digga y'all, Dirty Harriet (uhh)
Kweli, Xzibit, new millenium!
(C'mon, check it)

One, two, three, four
Grimy bitch stomp the bogey
Outside your front door (yeah)
Puffin on Goodie, eatin tuna and rye
Blow the spot with some old
School shit from junior high (HEYYY)
One, two, three, four
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

Convertible style, still had the heat knockin
Bumpin shit from way back
With my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm nice with these
You'll be suckin it down
Like fast food high-C's
Type of rap bitch that
Love underground classics
Gettin more green than that nigga 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
Kill '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
Lead the party over here like they Israelites
Got Cali, Brook, Briddicks, Rah, Kwe', Xzibit
Gonna lock shit down like you
Can't get no visit's one, two, three, four
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
One, two, three, four
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

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 niggas battle scars
ALWAYS makin my mark
You fakin the part of gangster
Til niggas break in your spot
You straight bitch whether I say it or not
Shit 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
Niggas be gassed like Cipha Sounds
And need rescue remedy
Then fall the fuck off like
Limbs affected with leprosy
One, two, three, four
Why the fuck can't MC's MC no more?
Hardcore til somebody put me under the ground
With a dick in your ear
Still couldn't fuck with my sound
One, two, three, four
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

I'm i rate, usin your body for live bait
Xzibit rockin them heavy gems you can't take
Dilate, cock back the weight, spread hate
Heavy metal we settle and set shit 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
Nigga walkin the yard for the first time
We ain't the niggas you let shine
Expect mines to blow lines
Like coke everytime
I'm an Alkaholik nigga so I finish the fifth
You at the front door bitchin because
You ain't on the list like
One, two, three, four

Yeah (ohhh) hehehe (aight y'all, aight y'all)
Yeah (here we go) one, two, three, four