Get Em High

Uh-uh, I'm tryin to catch the beat

Uh, I'm tryin to catch the beat

I'm tryin to catch the beat, uh-uh, uh-uh

I'm tryin to catch the beat

N-now, th-th-throw your motherfucking hands

Get 'em high

All the girls pass the weed to your motherfucking man

Get 'em high

Now I ain't never tell you to put down your hands

Keep 'em high

And if you're losing your high, then smoke again

Keep 'em high (n-n-n-now)

My flow is in the pocket like wallets, I got the bounce like hydraulics

I can't call it, I got the swerve like alcoholics

My freshman year I was going through hella problems

'Til I built up the nerve to drop my ass up out of college

My teacher said I was a loser, I told her, "Why don't you kill me?"

I give a fuck if you fail me, I'm gonna follow

My heart, and if you follow the charts, to the plaques or the stacks

You ain't gotta guess who's back, you see

I'm so Chi that you thought I was bashful

But this bastard's flow will bash your skull

And I will, cut your girl like Pastor Tro'

And I don't, usually smoke but pass the 'dro

And I won't, give you that money that you asking for

Why you think, me and Dame cool? We assholes

That's why we hear your music and fast forward

'Cause we don't wanna hear that weak shit no more

N-now, th-th-throw your motherfucking hands

Get 'em high

All the girls pass the weed to your motherfucking man

Get 'em high

Now I ain't never tell you to put down your hands

Keep 'em high

And if you're losing your high, then smoke again

Keep 'em high (n-n-n-n-now)

N-now who the hell is this

E-mailing me at 11:26

Telling me that she 36-26, plus double-d

You know how girls on Black Planet be when they get bubbly

At NYU but she hail from Kansas

Right now she just lamping, chilling on campus

Sent me a picture with her feeling on Candice

Who said her favorite rapper was the late great Francis

W-H-I-T, it's getting late, mami

Your screen saver, say Tweet

So you got to call me

And bring a friend for my friend, his name Kweli

(You mean Talib? Lyric sticks to your rib) I mean

(That's my favorite CD that I play at my crib) I mean

(You don't really know him, why is you lying?)

Yo Kwe, she don't believe me, please pick up the line

She gon' think that I'm lying, just spit a couple of lines

Then maybe I'll be able to give her dick all the time, and get her high

(Yeah) ow

I can't believe this nigga use my name for picking up dimes

But never mind, I need some tracks, you trying to pull tracks out

And my rhymes is finna blow, you trying to blow backs out

Well, okay, you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the charm

Ayo, ain't you meet that chick at that conference with your moms?

Her sister the bomb, but she got the bougie behavior

Always got something to say like a OkayPlayer-hater

Anyways, I don't usually fuck with the Internet

Or chicks with birth control stuck to they arm like Nicorette

You really fucking that much or trying to get off cigarettes

If she think it's fly, she ain't met a real nigga yet (no)

I apologize if I come off a little inconsiderate

I got the Bubba Kush and her sister could get a hit of it, yeah

Get 'em high like noon, or the moon or a room filled with smoke

A hype-filled with dope

Y'all assumed I was doomed, out of tune, but I still fill the notes

With real nigga quotes

Real rappers is hard to find, like a remote, control rap is out of

Used to, but still got love, that's why I abuse you who are not thugs

Rock club like Tiger Woods in the hood

Should have my own reality show called "Soul Survivor"

I stole on live-er niggas than you

You's a bitch I got ones that are thicker than you

How could I ever let your words affect me?

They say hip-hop is dead, I'm here to resurrect me

Marsha's too sexy to even make songs like these

That's why the raw don't know your name, like Alicia Keys

To many featured emcees, and pro-ducers is populer

12 thousand spins, nobody got to coppin' a

Album, how come you the hot garbage of

The year? It's clear your image is looped up

Label got you souped up, telling you you sick

When you a dick with a loose nut

Video hard to watch like Medusa

Even your club record need a booster

Chimped up, with a pimp cup, illiterate nigga

Read the infa-red across your head, I'm bred king like Simba

Bolder than Denver, I ain't a mad rapper just a emcee with a temper

You dancing for money like Honey, I did this my way

So when the industry crash, I survive like Kanye

Spitting through wires and fires, emcees retiring

Got your hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then

N-now, th-th-throw your motherfucking hands

Get 'em high

All the girls pass the weed to your motherfucking man

Get 'em high

Now I ain't never tell you to put down your hands

Keep 'em high

And if you're losing your high, then smoke again

Keep 'em high