Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Part 2)

Takin it the top?
Tippy?
How
The Ultimate

me as I kiss the sky
Sing a song of six pence, a pocket a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for culture?
Stalk the dead body like a

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

While the planets and the stars and the collapse
When I raise my finga all y'all niggaz hit the decks
'Cause ain't no need for that, and hardcores
Raw to the floor raw like Dogs

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

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

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 like an all 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
no use for resistance, H-O-D

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

Your shit broke down, light flare
Since the dark 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 glass and second half on your ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
use to play 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 on my block
How you dope when you payed for Billboard spot?

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

Look up in the sky it's a bird a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, a damn thing changed
How high? So high that I can the sky
How sick? So sick that you can suck my

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

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

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

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

Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K
blunts an all day habit

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

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

Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A
switches, twistin' wigs with
Fat radical mathematical type
I dig up in planets like Diga

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

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

Ask Biggie 'Who Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Mossberg
Look, I got the tools Rickle
To make your tickle

For the nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red)
ass pussy ass
(You gotta say no more man, that's it)
up Tical, we out
(It's over)