, ,

Redman “How High”

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,
I’m bombin you like Lebanon,
Blow canals of Panama,
Just off stamina,
Styles not to be f—ed with or played with,
F–k the pretty hoes I love those Section A B—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–k 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 Brodus,
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 p—y ass
(You ain’t gotta say no more man, thats it)
Word up Tical, We Out