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 pocket a rye
Who the fuck die for their culture
Stalk the body like a vulture

get, blacker than your blackest stallion
Hit your projects, I represent the Shaolin my nigga
yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow
It be goin' down, diggy diggy down down down

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

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

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, Murder 1 at your 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 you bargained for
Tical, that stays like an all nite store
For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue
Pointed at your temple with the intent to
And end your existence, M E T, no use for resistance, H O D

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

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

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

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, a damn thing changed
How high? So that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So that you can suck my dick

'Til my man Raider Ruckus come
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

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

Where niggaz toast
Home of the kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, the rude boy on the block
You try and stop the bum rush you get popped)

As I run with a racist
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 havoc with 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 bombin' you Lebanon
Blow canals of Panama, just off
Styles not to be fucked with, or played
Fuck the pretty hoes, I love section A bitches

Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs
Fat mathematical type scriptures
I dig up in your like Diga,
Boo, scared you, blew you to
the marines, I got machines
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 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, the 12 gauge Mossberg

Look, I got the tools rickle, to make 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)