Luyện nghe bài hát How High (remix)

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

'Scuse me, as I the sky
Sing a song of six pence, a full a rye
Who the wanna die for their culture
Stalk the dead body like a

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

While the planets and the stars and the moons
When I my trigga finga all y'all niggaz hit the decks
'Cause ain't no need for that, and hardcores
Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir

The green-eyed can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam
Plus, the Bombazee got me
Fuckin' with us is a straight

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, Murder 1 lyric at door
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 need no rap
I'd rather kick the facts and catch you the rapture

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

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

Your shit broke down, your flare
Since the dark tears you into Hollywood squares
6 million to die, so I chose
Made it 6 million and 1 with your closed

The blindfold, cold, so you can the rap
And shatter the glass and second on your monkey ass
And yo my man hit me now
Bitches use to play me now they forget me now

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

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

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

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

Check it, I havoc with my hectic
the Pain lyrics screamin' for the antiseptic
Movin' on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my dome piece
I got no love for the beast, hailin' 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 the bum rush you will get popped)

As I run around with a
My style was born in the 50 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 like
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 your
The funk phenomenon, I'm you like Lebanon
Blow of Panama, just off stamina
Styles not to be with, or played with
Fuck the hoes, I love those section A bitches

switches, twistin' wigs with
Fat radical mathematical type
I dig up in your planets Diga,
Boo, scared you, blew you to
the marines, I got machines
To the spliff, and read Mad magazine

I fly more heads Continental
ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way crook with bad
But I may your case like your name was Cal Brooks
I breaks 'em up proppa, ask Smalls, Who Shot Ya?
Funk doctor, with the 12 Mossberg

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