Get Em High

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

I'm tryin to catch the beat

N-now th-th-through ya motherforkin hands

Get em high

All the girls pass the ** to ya motherforkin man

Get em high

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

Keep em high

And if ya losin yo high than smoke again

Keep em high

N-n-n-now my flow

Is in the pocket like wallace

I got the bounce like hydrolics

I can't call it I got the swerve

Like alchoooool-ics

My freshman year I was goin through hell

A problem

Still I built up the nerve to drop

My ** up outta collllllll-ege

My teacher said I'se a loser

I told her why don't you kill me

I give a ** if you fail me

I'm gonna folllllllllll-ow

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 shy that you thought it was bashfull but this

Bastard's flow will bash a 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 askin fo

Why you think me and dame cool we ** holes

That's why we here your music in fast fo

Cuz we don't wanna here that weak sh*t no mo

N-now th-th-through ya motherforkin hands

Get em high

All the girls pass the ** to ya motherforkin man

Get em high

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

Keep em high

And if ya losin yo high than smoke again

Keep em high

N-n-n-n-n-now who the hell is this

E-mailin me at 1126 tellin me

That she 36-26 plus double-d

You know how girls on black planet

Be when they get bubblee

At nyu but she headed from kansas

Right now she just lampin chillin on

Campus

Sent me a picture with a feelin on candice

Who said her favorite rapper

Was the late great francis

W-h-i-t it's gettin 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 lyin

Yo kwe she don't believe me

Please pickup the line

She gon' think that I'm lyin

Just spit a couple of lines

Then maybe I'll be able to give

Her duck all the time and get her high

Yeah

I can't believe this ** use

My name for pickin up dolls but

Get em high I need some tracks

You tryin to pull tracks out

And my rhymes as fittin to blow

You tryin to blow back south

Well ok you twisted my arm

I'll asist with the charm aiyyo

I though you meet that chickit

That got friends with yo moms

And she's the bomb

Boy she got the bouji behavior

Always got somethin to say

Like a bookee playa hater

Anyway I don't usualy ** a interneter

Draws stuck to they arm like nicorette

You really forkin that much

You tryin to get off cigarettes

And she think it's fly she ain't met a real ** yet

I appoligize if I come off a little inconsiderate

I got the bubble cushion

A sister could get ahead of it

Get em high like noon or the moon or

Room filled with smoke

A high filled with d**e

Y'all **umed I was doomed out of tune

But I still feel the notes

The real ** quotes

Real rappers is hard to find like a remonte

Control rap is not a

Used soup it still got life that's

Why I abuse you who are not thugs

Rock clubs it's like tiger woods in the hood

To have my own reality show

Called soul survivor I stole all liver **z in you

You'se a ** 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 mosh is

To 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

Twelve thousand spins

Nobody got to coppin her

Album how come you the hot garbager

The years clear your image and snooped up

Label got you souped up tellin you you sick

Man you a duck with a loose nut

Video hard to watch like medusa

Even your club record need a booster

Chimped up with a pimp cup

Illeaterate **

Read the infa red across your head

I'm bread king like simba

Bolder then denver I ain't a madd rapper

Just a emcee with a temper

You dansin for money like honey

I did this my way

So when the industry crash

I survive like kanye

Spittin through wires and fires

Emcees retirin

Got yo hands up get them

Motherforkers higher then

N-now th-th-through ya motherforkin hands

Get em high

All the girls pass the ** to ya motherforkin man

Get em high

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

Keep em high

And if ya losin yo high than smoke again