Get 'Em High

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!)