Luyện nghe bài hát How High

Takin it the top?
Tippy?
How
The Ultimate

'Scuse me as I the sky
a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck die for their culture?
Stalk the body like a vulture

Tical get, blacker than your blackest
Hit your projects, I represent the Shaolin my nigga
yes, 'Apocalypse Now', the gun blow
It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down

While the planets and the and the moons collapse
I raise my trigga finga all y'all niggaz hit the decks
'Cause no need for that, hustlers and hardcores
Raw to the raw like Reservoir Dogs

The Green-Eyed can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then Toucan Sam Bitch
Plus, the Bombazee got me
with us is a straight suicide

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1, lyric at door
Tical it to that ass raw
all the rules like glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get to get yours

Fucka, we don't need no rap
I'd kick the facts and catch you with the rapture
More than you for
Tical, that stays open like an all night

For real, I keeps it ill like a of blue steel
Pointed at your temple with the to kill
And end existence, M-E-T
no use for resistance, H-O-D

I the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust
The Musk use to have me pull mad sluts
I shift a clutch with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get

Your shit broke down, light flare
Since the dark tears you into Hollywood squares
6 ways to die, so I chose
Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes

The blindfold, cold, so you can the rap
And shatter the glass and half on your monkey ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
Bitches use to me, now they can't forget me now

Forget me not, I rock the spot, check
Empty off a off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my
How you dope when you payed for Billboard spot?

up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane
It's the funk doctor smokin' Buddha on a train
How So high that I can kiss the sky
How So sick that you can suck my dick

Look up in the sky it's a bird a plane
Recognize, Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
How high? So high I can kiss the sky
How sick? So that you can suck my dick

my man Raider Ruckus come home
It ain't on till the Ruckus get, home
a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone
We don't need dirt weed we got a fuckin' O

Check it, I brings havoc with my
Bring the Pain screamin' for the antiseptic
on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no for the beast

from the big East Coast
Where pack toast
Home of the kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the boy on the block)
(You try and stop the bum you will get popped)
As I run around with a

My style was born in the 50 cases
Dig it, eff a rap
He talk it while I live it
If Red got the blunt, I'm the one to hit it

up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and glocks in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics bang rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings with an A-K matic
Rollin' an all day habit

I get it on like
Punks take a sip and
Who split vest
The phenomenon

I'm you like Lebanon
canals of Panama
Just off
not to be fucked with, or played with

Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A
Hittin' switches, wigs with
Fat radical type scriptures
I dig up in your planets Diga

Boo, scared you, blew you to
Fuck the marines, I got
To light the spliff, and Mad magazine
I fly more than Continental

Wreck ya 5 times US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way with bad looks
But I may murder your like your name was Cal Brooks
I 'em up proppa

Ask Biggie Smalls Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like
To make your tickle

For the nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red)
ass pussy ass
(You ain't say no more man, that's it)
up Tical, we out
(It's over)