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Letra 'How High' de 'Method Man' traducida al español

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Method Man
How High

Takin it from the top?
Tippy? tippy?

How high?....
The ultimate high....

Verse one: method man
Scuse me as i kiss the sky
Sing a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye
Who the fuck wanna die for their culture
Stalk the dead body like a vulture
Tical get, hmmm
Blacker than your blackest stallion
Hit your house'n projects
I represent the shaolin my nigga
Hell yes, apocalypse now, the gun blow
It be goin down, diggy diggy down diggy down down

Verse two: redman
While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse
When i raise my trigga finga all yall niggaz 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 bitch
Plus, the bombazee got me wild
(fuckin with us) is a straight suicide

Verse three: method man
10 9 8 7 6 5 4
3 2 murder 1 lyric at your door
Tical bring it to that ass raw
Breakin all the rules like glass jaws
Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours
Fucka, 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 nite 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
Ain't no use for resistance, h-o-d

Verse four: redman
I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust
The egyptian musk use to have me pull mad sluts
I shift like a clutch with the ruck
Examine my nuts, i dont stop till i get enough
Your shit 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 ass
And yo my man (tical) hit me now
Bitches 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
Fuck the billboard, im a bullet on my block
How you dope when you payed for your billboard spot?

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 don't need your dirt weed we got a fuckin o
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 smif'n'wes
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 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]
Method Man
¿Qué tan alto

Takin desde la parte superior?
Tippy? tippy?

¿Qué tan alto? ....
El último alto ....

Verso uno: Method Man
Disculpe mi como yo beso el cielo
Canta una canción de seis peniques, un bolsillo lleno de centeno
¿Quién coño quiero morir a su cultura
Tallo el cuerpo muerto como un buitre
Tical conseguir, hmmm
Más negro que la más negra semental
Hit sus proyectos house'n
Yo represento a la Shaolin mi nigga
Infierno sí, Apocalypse Now, el golpe de la pistola
No se goin abajo, abajo Diggy Diggy Diggy abajo abajo

Verso dos: redman
Mientras que los planetas y las estrellas y el colapso lunas
Cuando levanto mis trigga finga todos los niggaz del yall golpear las cubiertas!
Porque no hay necesidad de que los estafadores, y hardcores
Prima para la planta en bruto, como Reservoir Dogs
El bandido de ojos verdes, no lo soporto
Con lazos más afrutados entonces que Toucan Sam perra
Además, el bombazee se me vuelve loco
(Fuckin con nosotros) es un suicidio recta

El versículo tres: el método del hombre
10 9 8 7 6 5 4
3 2 1 letra de asesinato en su puerta
Tical llevarlo a ese culo prima
Breakin todas las reglas, como las mandíbulas de cristal
Nigga, tienes que conseguir la mina para conseguir el tuyo

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