Luyện nghe bài hát How High (remix)

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

'Scuse me, as I the sky
Sing a of six pence, a pocket full 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 Shaolin my
yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow
It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down

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

The green-eyed bandit stand it
With 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 lyric at your
Tical bring it to that ass raw, breakin' all the rules like jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get
Fucka, we need no rap tour
I'd kick the facts and catch you with the rapture

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

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

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

Forget me not, I rock the spot, check
Empty off a off a hip hop
Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my
How you dope when you payed for your billboard

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

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, 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

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

Check it, I brings havoc my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics screamin' for the
Movin' on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome
Plus I got no love for the beast, from the big East Coast

Where niggaz pack
Home of the drug kingpins and cut
(Hey boy, you's the boy on the block
You try and stop the bum you will get popped)

As I run around a racist
My style was born in the 50 stair
Dig it, eff a rap critic, he talk 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, nouns and in ya
Enter the centa, bang like ricochet
Rabbit, I brings havoc an AK- matic
blunts an all day habit

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

switches, twistin' wigs with
Fat radical mathematical scriptures
I dig up in your like Diga,
Boo, scared you, you to smithe-reens
Fuck the marines, I got
To light the spliff, and read Mad

I fly more than Continental
Wreck ya 5 times US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way with bad looks
But I may murder case 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)
ass, pussy ass
(You ain't gotta say no man, that's it)
up Tical, we out
(It's over)