Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Remix)

Takin it the top?
Tippy?
How
The Ultimate

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

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

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

The Green-Eyed Bandit can't it
With more Fruitier 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
bring it to that ass raw
Breakin' all the rules glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get to get yours

Fucka, we don't need no rap
I'd rather kick the facts and you with the rapture
More you bargained for
Tical, that stays open an all night store

For real, I keeps it ill a piece of blue steel
at your temple with the intent to kill
And end your existence,
Ain't no use for resistance,

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

Your shit down, light your flare
Since the dark tears you into 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 second half on your ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
Bitches use to me, now they can't forget me now

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

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

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

'Til my man Ruckus come home
It ain't really on till the Ruckus get,
Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red
We don't need your dirt we got a fuckin' O

it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics screamin' for the
on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no 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 the bum rush you will get popped)
As I run around a racist

My style was born in the 50 stair
Dig it, eff a rap
He talk about it while I 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 rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings with an A-K matic
blunts an all day habit

I get it on Smif'n'Wes
Punks take a sip and
Who split vest
The funk

I'm you like Lebanon
Blow canals of
Just off
Styles not to be fucked with, or with

Fuck the hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches
switches, twistin' wigs with
Fat mathematical type scriptures
I dig up in your like Diga

Boo, scared you, you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got
To light the spliff, and Mad magazine
I fly more heads Continental

Wreck ya 5 times US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way crook bad looks
But I may murder your case like your was Cal Brooks
I 'em up proppa

Ask Biggie Smalls Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like
To make your tickle

For the nine
(Yo Red, yo Red)
Punk ass ass
(You gotta say no more man, that's it)
up Tical, we out
(It's over)