Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Remix)

Takin it from the
Tippy?
How
The Ultimate

'Scuse me as I the sky
Sing a of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for their
the dead body like a vulture

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

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

The Green-Eyed can't stand it
With more Fruitier Loops then 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, lyric at your
Tical bring it to ass raw
Breakin' all the rules like glass
Nigga, you got to get to get yours

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

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

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

Your shit broke down, your flare
Since the dark side tears you into Hollywood
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 play me, now they forget me now

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

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

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

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

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 fuckin' dome
Plus I got no love for the

Hailin' from the big East
Where niggaz pack
Home of the 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 in the 50 stair cases
Dig it, eff a rap
He talk about it while I 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 like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K
Rollin' blunts an all day

I get it on like
Punks a sip and test
Who split vest
The funk

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

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

Boo, you, blew you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got
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 way crook with bad looks
But I may murder your case like name was Cal Brooks
I 'em up proppa

Ask Biggie Smalls Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Mossberg
Look, I got the like Rickle
To your mind tickle

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