Get Em High

Common, Talib Kweli, Kanye WestBuy this song

Common

Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Jr. (born March 13, 1972), better known by his stage name Common (formerly Common Sense), is an American rapper and actor. more »

I'm trying to catch the beat, uh
I'm trying to catch the beat
I'm trying to catch the beat, uh uh, uh
I'm trying to catch the beat

Now, thr-thr-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 ya losing yo' high than smoke again (Keep 'em high!)

N-n-n-now, my flow
Is in the pocket like wallets, I got the bounce like hydrolics I can't call it, I got the swerve like alcoholics My freshman year I was going through hell, a problems Still I, built up the nerve to drop my ass up outta college
My teacher said I's a loser, I told her why don't you kill me
I give a fuck if you feel me, I'm gonna follow
My heart, and if you follow the charts, or 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 bashful 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 asking fo'
Why you think, me and Dame cool, we assholes That's why we here your music in fast fo' Cause we don't want to here that weak shit no mo'

Now, thr-thr-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 ya losing yo' high than smoke again (Keep 'em high!)

Now now now now now who the hell is this
E-mailing me at 11:26, tellin' me that she 36-26,
Plus double D you know how girls on black planet be when they get bubble E
At NYU but she hail from Kansas, Right now she just lamping, chilling on campus Sent me a picture with a 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 pickup the line
She goin' 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, I can't believe this nigga use my name for picking up dimes but
Get 'em high, I need some tracks you trying to pull tracks out
And my rhymes as fitting to blow you trying to blow backs out
Well OK, you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the charm, hey yo
Ain't you meet that chick that got friends with yo moms
And she's the bomb, boy she got the bougie behavior Always got something to say like a okay playa 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, you trying to get off cigarettes And she think it's fly, she ain't met a real nigga yet
I apologize if I come off a little inconsiderate
I got the bubble kush and a sister could get ahead of it

Get em high like noon, or the moon or room filled with smoke A high filled with dope
Y'all assumed I was doomed, out of tune, but I still feel 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 clubs like Tiger, Woods in the hood, to have my own reality show Called Soul Survivor, I stole all liver, niggas in you
You'se 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, mug 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 producers is popular Twelve thousand spins, nobody got to copping her
Album, how come, you the hot garbager The years clear your image and looped up Label got you suped up, telling you you sick
Man 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 bread king like Simba Bolder then Denver, I ain't a Madd 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 yo hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then

Now, thr-thr-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 ya losing yo' high than smoke again (Keep 'em high!)

Written by: LONNIE RASHID LYNN, KANYE OMARI WEST, TALIB KWELI GREENE

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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"Get Em High Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2017. Web. 22 Jun 2017. <http://www.lyrics.com/lyric/6813573>.

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Get Em High