Luyện nghe bài hát How High (remix)

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

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

Tical get, blacker than your stallion
Hit your house'n projects, I represent the my nigga
yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow
It be goin' down, 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
'Cause no need for that, hustlers and hardcores
Raw to the floor raw Reservoir Dogs

The green-eyed can't stand it
more Fruitier 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, Murder 1 at your door
Tical bring it to that ass raw, breakin' all the rules glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get
Fucka, we need no rap tour
I'd rather kick the and catch you with the rapture

More you bargained for
Tical, that stays open like an all nite
For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue
Pointed at your with the intent to kill
And end existence, M E T, ain't no use for resistance, H O D

I bees the rush to any nigga on dust
The Egyptian Musk use to me pull mad sluts
I shift like a with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I stop till I get enough

Your shit broke down, light your
Since the dark side you into Hollywood squares
6 million ways to die, so I
Made it 6 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
Bitches use to me now they cant forget me now

Forget me not, I rock the spot, glock
off a lickin' off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a on my block
How you dope when you for your billboard spot?

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

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

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

it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics 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 niggaz pack
Home of the 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 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 centa, lyrics bang ricochet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an AK-
Rollin' an all day habit

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

Hittin' switches, twistin' with
Fat radical mathematical type
I dig up in your like Diga,
Boo, scared you, you to smithe-reens
the marines, I got machines
To the spliff, and read 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 name was Cal
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 nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red)
Punk ass, ass
(You ain't gotta say no man, that's it)
up Tical, we out
(It's over)