Various Artists METHOD MAN & REDMAN - HOW HIGH Lyrics

Excuse me as I kiss the sky,
Sing a song of six pence a pocket full a rye,
Who the f___ wanna die for their culture,
Stalk the dead body like a vulture,
Ticalian, HMMM
Blacker than your blackest stallion,
Hit your housin projects,
I represent the Shaolin my n____,
Hell yes, Apocalypse now the gun pow,
It be goin down diggy diggy down diggy down down

[Verse 2: Redman]

While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse,
When I raise my trigga finga all yall n____z hit the decks,
Cause aint no need for that hustlers and hardcores,
Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs,
The Green Eyed Bandit can't stand it,
With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam b____,
Plus, the Bombazee got me wild,
(f___in with us) is a straight suicide

[Verse 3: Method Man]

10 9 8 7 6 5 4
3 2 Murder 1 lyric at your door,
Tical bring it to that a__-raw,
Breakin all the rules like glass-jaws,
n____, you got to get mine to get-yours,
f___a, we dont need no rap-tour,
I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rap-ture,
More than you bargained for,
Tical that stays open like an all night store,
For real I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel,
Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill,
And end your existance, M-E-T
Aint no use for resistance, H-O-D

[Verse 4: Redman]

I bees the ultimate rush to any n____ on dust,
The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad s___s,
I shift like a clutch with the Ruck,
Examine my nuts I dont stop till I get enough,
Your s___ broke down light your flare,
Since the darkside tears you into hollywood squares,
6 million ways to die so I chose,
Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed,
The blindfold, cold so you can feel the rap,
And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey a__,
And yo my man (Tical) hit me now,
b____es use to play me now they cant forget me now,
Forget me not I rock the spot check glock,
Empty off a lickin off a hip hop,
f___ the billboard I'm a bullet on my block,
How you dope when you payed for your billboard spot

[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 d___
Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane
Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a d___ thing changed
HOW HIGH? So High that I can kiss the sky
HOW SICK? So Sick that you can suck my d___

[Verse 5: Method Man]

Till 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 weed we got our f___in own,
Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic,
Movin on your left kid and I'm method out my f___in dome piece,
Plus I got no love for the beast,
Hailin from the big East Coast,
Where n____z 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 b__ rush you will get popped)
As I run around with a racist,
My style was born in the 50 stair cases,
Dig it "F" a rap critic,
He talk about it while I live it,
If Red got the blunt I'm the second one to hit it

[Verse 6: Redman]

Look up in the I got the verbs nouns and glocks in ya
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,
I'm bombin you like Lebanon,
Blow canals of Panama,
Just off stamina,
Styles not to be f___ed with or played with,
f___ the pretty hoes I love those Section A Bit-ches,
Hittin switches, Twistin wigs with,
Phat radical mathematical type scriptures,
I dig up in your planets like Digga,
Boo scared you blew you to smitha-reens,
f___ the marines I got machines,
To light the spit 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 a__ p____ a__
(You ain't gotta say no more man, thats it)
Word up Tical, We Out
(IT'S OVER)
Sick a__ n____s