Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Part 2)

Takin it from the
Tippy?
How
The high

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

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

the planets and the stars and the moons collapse
When I raise my trigga finga all niggaz hit the decks
ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcores
Raw to the raw like Reservoir Dogs

The Bandit can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam
Plus, the Bombazee got me
Fuckin' with us is a straight

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

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

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

I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on
The Egyptian Musk use to me pull mad sluts
I shift a clutch with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I stop till I get enough

Your shit broke down, light flare
Since the dark side 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 play me, now 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 on my block
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 spock smokin' Buddha on a train
How high? So high that I can the sky
How So sick that you can suck my dick

Look up in the sky a bird it's a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, a damn thing changed
How high? So that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick 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 your dirt weed we got a O

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

from the big East Coast
Where niggaz pack
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 a racist

My was born in the 50 stair cases
Dig it, eff a rap
He about it while 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, bang like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc an A-K matic
Rollin' an all day habit

I get it on Smif'n'Wes
Punks a sip and test
Who your vest
The phenomenon

I'm bombin' you like
Blow of Panama
off stamina
Styles not to be fucked with, or with

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

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

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

Ask Biggie Smalls Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Mossberg
Look, I got the like Rickle
To your mind tickle

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