Luyện nghe bài hát How High (remix)

Takin' it from the top? Tippy?
How high? The ultimate

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

get, blacker than your blackest stallion
Hit your house'n projects, I represent the Shaolin my
Hell yes, now, the gun blow
It be down, diggy diggy down diggy down down

While the planets and the and the moons collapse
When I raise my trigga finga all niggaz hit the decks
'Cause no need for that, hustlers and hardcores
Raw to the floor raw Reservoir Dogs

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

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, Murder 1 lyric at door
Tical bring it to that ass raw, breakin' all the like glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get
Fucka, we don't need no rap
I'd rather kick the and catch you with the rapture

More than you for
Tical, stays open like an all nite store
For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of steel
Pointed at your with the intent to kill
And end your existence, M E T, no use for resistance, H O D

I bees the ultimate to any nigga on dust
The Egyptian Musk use to have me mad sluts
I shift a clutch with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get

Your shit down, light your flare
Since the dark side tears you Hollywood squares
6 million 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 glass and half on your monkey ass
And yo my man hit me now
Bitches use to play me now they forget me now

Forget me not, I rock the spot, glock
Empty off a off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a on my block
How you dope 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 So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can my dick

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

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

Check it, I havoc with my hectic
Bring the lyrics screamin' for the antiseptic
Movin' on left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no for the beast, hailin' from the big East Coast

Where pack toast
of the drug kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the
You try and stop the bum rush you get popped)

As I run with a racist
My was born in the 50 stair cases
Dig it, eff a rap critic, he about 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, and glocks in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics bang ricochet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an AK-
Rollin' an all day habit

I get it on Smif'n'Wes
Punks a sip and test, who split your vest
The funk phenomenon, I'm bombin' you like
Blow canals of Panama, just off
Styles not to be fucked with, or played
the pretty hoes, I love those section A bitches

Hittin' switches, twistin' with
Fat radical mathematical type
I dig up in planets like Diga,
Boo, you, blew you to smithe-reens
the marines, I got machines
To light the spliff, and Mad magazine

I fly more heads than
Wreck ya 5 like US AIR off an instrumental
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 proppa, ask Biggie Smalls, Who Ya?
Funk doctor, the 12 gauge Mossberg

Look, I got the tools like rickle, to your mind 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)