Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Part 2)

Takin it from the
Tippy?
How
The Ultimate

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

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

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

The Green-Eyed Bandit can't it
With more Fruitier Loops then 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
Breakin' all the rules like jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get

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

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

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

Your shit broke down, your flare
Since the dark side you into Hollywood squares
6 ways to die, so I chose
Made it 6 million and 1 with your 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)
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 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 high? So high I can kiss the sky
How sick? So that you can suck my dick

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

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

Check it, I brings havoc with my
Bring the lyrics 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 pack
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 with a racist

My was born in the 50 stair 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

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

I get it on like
take a sip and test
Who your vest
The funk

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

Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A
Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs
Fat mathematical type scriptures
I dig up in your planets like

Boo, you, blew you to smithereens
the marines, I got machines
To light the spliff, and read Mad
I fly heads 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 case like your name was Cal Brooks
I breaks 'em up

Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Ya'
doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like
To make mind tickle

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