Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Part 2)

Takin it the top?
Tippy?
How
The high

'Scuse me as I the sky
a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for culture?
the dead body like a vulture

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your shit broke down, your flare
Since the dark side you into Hollywood squares
6 million ways to die, so I
Made it 6 million and 1 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 play me, now they forget me now

Forget me not, I the spot, check 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?

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

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

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

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

Hailin' from the big Coast
Where pack toast
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 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 havoc an A-K matic
Rollin' an all day habit

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

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

the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches
Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs
Fat radical mathematical scriptures
I dig up in planets like Diga

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

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

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

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