Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Remix)

Takin it from the
Tippy?
How
The Ultimate

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

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

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

The Green-Eyed can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then Toucan Sam Bitch
Plus, the got me wild
with us is a straight suicide

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1, lyric at 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 no rap tour
I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the
than you bargained for
Tical, that stays open like an all night

For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue
at your temple with the intent to kill
And end your existence,
no use for resistance, H-O-D

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

Your shit down, light your flare
the dark side tears you into Hollywood squares
6 ways to die, so I chose
Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes

The blindfold, cold, so you can the rap
And the glass and second half on your monkey ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
Bitches use to me, now they can't forget me now

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

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

'Til my man Raider Ruckus 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 dirt weed we got a fuckin' O

it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics screamin' for the
Movin' on your kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece
Plus I got no love for the

from the big East Coast
Where pack toast
of the drug kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the boy on the block)
(You try and stop the bum rush you 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 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 like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K
Rollin' an all day habit

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

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

Fuck the hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches
Hittin' switches, wigs with
Fat radical mathematical type
I dig up in planets like Diga

Boo, scared you, you to smithereens
the marines, I got machines
To light the spliff, and read Mad
I fly more than Continental

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

Ask Biggie 'Who Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like
To make your mind

For the nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red)
ass pussy ass
(You ain't gotta say no more man, it)
up Tical, we out
(It's over)