Takin' it from the Oh, my Sing it How high, Take my it never gone before [Incomprehensible] the high, baby The high
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 like a vulture, Tical get Blacker than blackest stallion hit your house Projects I the Shaolin' my nigga yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow It be down, diggy diggy down diggy down down
While the planets and the and the moons collapse When I my trigga finga all y'all niggaz hit the decks ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcore Raw to the raw like Reservoir Dogs The Green-Eyed Bandit can't it With more Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch Plus, the got me wild Fuckin' with us is just 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 glass jaws Nigga, you got to get mine to get Fucka, we don't no rap tour I'd rather kick the and catch you with the rap-true More than you for Tical, that stays open an all nite 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 ultimate rush to any nigga on The Egyptian Musk use to have me mad sluts I shift like a clutch the Ruck Examine my nuts, I don't stop I get enough Your shit down, light your flare Since the dark side tears you Hollywood Squares 6 ways to die, so I chose 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 Bitches use to play me now cant forget me now Forget me not, I rock the spot, check off a lickin' off a hip hop Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my How you dope you payed for your billboard spot?
Look up in the sky, it's a bird, a plane It's the funk doctor smokin' Buddha on a train How high? So high that I can the sky How sick? So sick you can suck my dick
Look up in the sky it's a it's a plane Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a thing changed How So high that I can kiss the sky How sick? So sick that you can suck my
Till 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 dirt weed we got our own Check it, I brings havoc my hectic Bring the lyrics screamin' for the antiseptic on your left kid, and I'm method, out my fuckin' dome piece Plus I got no love for the beast, from the big East Coast Where niggaz toast home of the drug kingpins and cut throats
Hey boy, your's the rude boy on the You try and stop the bum you will get popped As I run around with a My style was born in the 50 stair Dig it, ff a rap critic he talk about it 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 cent, lyrics bang like Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K Rollin blunts an all day habit I get it on Smif'n'Wes Who clicks the best take a sip and test Who split your the funk phenomenon I'm bombin' you Lebanon blow canals of Panama off stamina
Styles not to be with, or played with the pretty hoes, I love those Section A Bit-ches Hittin' switches, Twistin' with Fat radical mathematical type I dig up in your planets Diga Boo, you, blew you to smithe-reens Fuck the marines, I got To the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly heads than Continental Wreck ya 5 times US Air off an instrumental Look I'm not a way crook with bad looks But I may murder your like your name was Cal Brooks I breaks em up proppa ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Ya' Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Look, I got the tools like Rickle to your mind tickle For the nine
Yo Red, yo Red Punk ass ass You gotta say no more man, that's it up Tical, We Out It's