Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Part 2)

Takin it from the
Tippy?
How
The high

'Scuse me as I the sky
Sing a of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for their
Stalk the dead body like a

Tical get, 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 down diggy down down

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

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

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

Fucka, we don't need no rap
I'd rather kick the and catch you with the rapture
than 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 intent to
And end existence, M-E-T
no use for resistance, H-O-D

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

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

The blindfold, cold, so you can the rap
And shatter the glass and second half on 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 on my block
How you when you payed for your Billboard spot?

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

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

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

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

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

My style was born in the 50 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

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

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

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

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

Boo, you, blew you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got
To light the spliff, and Mad magazine
I fly heads than 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 your name was Cal
I breaks 'em up

Ask Smalls 'Who Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like
To make mind 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)