The Show movie - How High lyrics

rate me

Song by Method Man and Redman<br /><br>

[Intro:]<br>

<br>

Takin it from the top?<br>

Tippy? Tippy?<br>

<br>

How High?....<br>

The Ultimate High....<br>

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[Verse One: Method Man]<br>

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Scuse me as I kiss the sky<br>

Sing a song of six pence, a pocet full a rye<br>

Who the fuck wanna die for their culture<br>

Stalk the dead body like a vulture<br>

Tical get, HMMM<br>

Blacker than your blackest stallion<br>

Hit your house'n projects<br>

I represent the Shaolin my nigga<br>

Hell yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow<br>

It be goin down, diggy diggy down diggy down down<br>

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[Verse Two: Redman]<br>

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While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse<br>

When I raise my trigga finga all yall niggaz hit the decks!<br>

Cause aint no need for that, hustlers and hardcores<br>

Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs<br>

The Green-Eyed Bandit can't stand it<br>

With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch<br>

Plus, the Bombazee got me wild<br>

(Fuckin with us) is a straight suicide<br>

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[Verse Three: Method Man]<br>

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10 9 8 7 6 5 4<br>

3 2 Murder 1 lyric at your door<br>

Tical bring it to that ass raw<br>

Breakin all the rules like glass jaws<br>

Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours<br>

Fucka, we dont need no rap tour<br>

I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rap-ture<br>

More than you bargained for<br>

Tical, that stays open like an all nite store<br>

For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel<br>

Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill<br>

And end your existance, M-E-T<br>

Ain't no use for resistance, H-O-D<br>

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[Verse Four: Redman]<br>

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I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust<br>

The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts<br>

I shift like a clutch with the Ruck<br>

Examine my nuts, I dont stop till I get enough<br>

Your shit broke down, light your flare<br>

Since the darkside tears you into hollywood squares<br>

6 million ways to die, so I chose<br>

Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed<br>

The blindfold, cold, so you can feel the rap<br>

And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass<br>

And yo my man (Tical) hit me now<br>

Bitches use to play me now they cant forget me now<br>

Forget me not, I rock the spot, check glock<br>

Empty off a lickin off a hip hop<br>

Fuck the billboard, Im a bullet on my block<br>

How you dope when you payed for your billboard spot?<br>

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[Chorus:]<br>

<br>

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane<br>

It's the funk doctor spock smokin buddha on a train<br>

HOW HIGH? So high that I can kiss the sky<br>

HOW SICK? So sick that you can suck my dick<br>

Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane<br>

Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed<br>

HOW HIGH? So High that I can kiss the sky<br>

HOW SICK? So Sick that you can suck my dick<br>

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[Verse Five: Method Man]<br>

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Til my man Raider Ruckus come home<br>

It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home<br>

Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone<br>

we don't need your dirt weed we got a fuckin O<br>

Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic<br>

Bring the Pain lyrics screamin for the antiseptic<br>

Movin on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin dome piece<br>

Plus I got no love for the beast<br>

Hailin from the big East Coast<br>

Where niggaz pack toast<br>

Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats<br>

(Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the block<br>

You try and stop the bum rush you will get popped)<br>

As I run around with a racist<br>

My style was born in the 50 stair cases<br>

Dig it, eff a rap critic<br>

He talk about it while I live it<br>

If Red got the blunt, Im the second one to hit it<br>

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[Verse Six: Redman]<br>

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Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and glocks in ya<br>

Enter the centa, lyrics bang like rico-chet<br>

Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic<br>

Rollin blunts an all day habit<br>

I get it on like Smif'n'Wes<br>

Punks take a sip and test<br>

Who split your vest<br>

The funk phenomenon<br>

I'm bombin you like Lebanon<br>

Blow canals of Panama<br>

Just off stamina<br>

Styles not to be fucked with, or played with<br>

Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those Section A Bit-ches<br>

Hittin switches, Twistin wigs with<br>

Fat radical mathematical type scriptures<br>

I dig up in your planets like Diga,<br>

Boo, scared you, blew you to smithe-reens<br>

Fuck the marines, I got machines<br>

To light the spliff, and read Mad magazine<br>

I fly more heads than Continental<br>

Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental<br>

Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks<br>

But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks<br>

I breaks em up proppa<br>

Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Shot Ya'<br>

Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg<br>

Look, I got the tools like Rickle<br>

To make your mind tickle<br>

For the nine nickle<br>

(Yo Red, yo Red!)<br>

Punk ass pussy ass<br>

(You ain't gotta say no more man, that's it)<br>

Word up Tical, We Out<br>

(IT'S OVER)<br>

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