How high

By:

Method Man

from album

Tical 2000 Judgementday

Print without graphics

"How High"
(feat. Redman)

[Chorus]

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane
It's the funk doctor spock smokin buddha on a train
HOW HIGH? So high that I can kiss the sky
HOW SICK? So sick that you can suck my dick
Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
HOW HIGH? So High that I can kiss the sky
HOW SICK? So Sick that you can suck my dick

[Verse Five: Method Man]

Til my man Raider Ruckus come home
It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home
Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone
We dont need yo dirt, we, we got our fuckin own
Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic
Bring the Pain lyrics screamin for the antiseptic
Movin on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin dome piece
Plus I got no love for the beast
Hailin from the big East Coast
Where niggaz pack toast
Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats
(Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the block
You try and stop the bum rush you will get popped)
As I run around with a racist
My style was born in the 50 stair cases
Dig it, eff a rap critic
He talk about it while I live it
If Red got the blunt, Im the second one to hit it

[Verse Six: Redman]

Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and glocks in ya
Enter the centa, lyrics bang like rico-chet
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic
Rollin blunts an all day habit
I get it on like Smiff and Wess
Who clicks the best
Punks take a sip and test
Who split your vest
The funk phenomenon
Im bombin you like Lebanon
Blow canals of Panama
Just off stamina
Styles not to be fucked with, or played with
Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those Section A Bit-ches
Hittin switches, Twistin wigs with
Fat radical mathematical type scriptures
I dig up in your planets like Diga,
Boo, scared you, blew you to smithe-reens
Fuck the marines, I got machines
To light the spliff, and read Mad magazine
I fly more heads than Continental
Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental
Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks
But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks
I breaks em up proppa
Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Shot Ya'
Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg
Look, I got the tools like Rickle
To make your mind tickle
For the nine nickle
(Yo Red, yo Red!)
Punk ass pussy ass
(You ain't gotta say no more man, that's it)
Word up Tical, We Out
(IT'S OVER)

Lyrics to / for How High by Method Man.
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Method Man - How High
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 <a href="http://www.lyricslord.com/songs/1016321:How_High">Method Man - How High</a>
 
 Lyrics found at <a href="http://www.lyricslord.com/">Lyrics Lord</a>
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