Luyện nghe bài hát How High

Takin it the top?
Tippy?
How
The high

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

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

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

The Green-Eyed Bandit stand it
With more Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch
Plus, the got me wild
Fuckin' us is a straight suicide

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1, lyric at your
Tical it to that ass raw
Breakin' all the like glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get to get yours

Fucka, we need no rap tour
I'd kick the facts and catch you with the rapture
than you bargained for
Tical, stays open like an all night store

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

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

Your shit broke down, light flare
Since the dark side tears you into Hollywood
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 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
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, it's a bird, a plane
It's the funk doctor smokin' Buddha on a train
How So high that I can kiss the sky
How sick? So sick that you can my dick

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

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

it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain screamin' for the antiseptic
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 niggaz toast
of the drug 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 with a

My style was born in the 50 cases
Dig it, eff a rap
He talk it while 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 with an A-K matic
blunts an all day habit

I get it on like
Punks a sip and test
Who your vest
The phenomenon

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

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

Boo, you, blew you to smithereens
Fuck the marines, I got
To the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly heads 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 your case your name was Cal Brooks
I breaks 'em up

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

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