Luyện nghe bài hát How High

Takin it the top?
Tippy?
How
The Ultimate

me as I kiss the sky
Sing a of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck die for their culture?
the dead body like a vulture

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

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

The Green-Eyed Bandit stand it
With more Fruitier Loops that Toucan Sam Bitch
Plus, the got me wild
Fuckin' us is a straight suicide

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

Fucka, we need no rap tour
I'd rather kick the and catch you with the rapture
More you bargained for
Tical, that stays open like an all store

For real, I keeps it ill like a of blue steel
Pointed at temple with the intent to kill
And end your existence,
Ain't no use for resistance,

I bees the ultimate rush to any on dust
The Egyptian Musk use to have me mad sluts
I shift like a clutch the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I don't till I get enough

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

The blindfold, cold, so you can the rap
And shatter the and second 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, glock
Empty off a off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my
How you dope you payed for your Billboard spot?

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

my man Raider Ruckus come home
It ain't really on till the get, home
Puff a 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 my hectic
Bring the Pain screamin' for the antiseptic
Movin' on your kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no love for the

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

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

Look up in the, I got the verbs, and glocks in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics bang like
Rabbit, I brings with an A-K matic
Rollin' blunts an all day

I get it on Smif'n'Wes
Punks take a sip and
Who split your
The funk

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

Fuck the hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches
Hittin' switches, twistin' with
Fat radical type scriptures
I dig up in planets like Diga

Boo, you, blew you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got
To the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly more heads than

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

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

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