Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Remix)

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