Luyện nghe bài hát How High (Part 2)

Takin it from the
Tippy?
How
The high

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

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

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

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

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

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

For real, I it ill like a piece of blue steel
Pointed at your temple with the intent to
And end existence, M-E-T
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 like a clutch with the Ruck
Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get

Your broke down, light your flare
the dark side tears you into Hollywood squares
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 and second half on your monkey ass
And yo my man, hit me now
(Tical)
Bitches use to play me, now 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 bullet on my
How you dope when you payed for Billboard spot?

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

Look up in the sky it's a it's a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing
How high? So high that I can the sky
How sick? So sick that you can 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 don't need dirt weed we got a fuckin' O

Check it, I brings with my hectic
Bring the Pain screamin' for the antiseptic
Movin' on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome
Plus I got no for the beast

Hailin' from the big Coast
Where niggaz pack
of the drug kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the boy on the block)
(You try and stop the bum you will get popped)
As I run with 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 havoc with an A-K matic
Rollin' an all day habit

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

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

Fuck the pretty hoes, I those, Section A Bitches
Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs
Fat radical mathematical scriptures
I dig up in your like Diga

Boo, you, blew you to smithereens
the marines, I got machines
To the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly more heads Continental

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

Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge
Look, I got the tools Rickle
To make mind tickle

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