Keep Your Hands High

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Tracey Lee

Tracey Lee (born 22 October 1970) is an American rapper and Lawyer. He became known in 1997 when his single "The Theme (It's Party Time)" had some commercial success. His debut album Many Facez followed on March 25, 1997. Tracey Lee also recorded the track, "Keep Your Hands High", in which he collaborated with The Notorious B.I.G.. Tracey Lee Also made a Guest Appearance on Changing Faces "Goin' Nowhere" song from album "All Day, All Night. more »


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featuring Notorious B.I.G. 

(Notorious B.I.G.) 

F*ck that  I preach it  my nine reaches 

The prestigious cats who speak this Willie shit 

Flood in pieces  my hand releases snatches 

Smackin cabbage  half ass rappers shouldn't have it 

So I grab it  never run  the out come is usually 

a beat down brutally  f*ck who you be or where you from 

West or East coast  squeeze toast leave most 

in the blood they layin in, ask Tray and them 

(Tracey Lee) 

Oh shit, I suppose its time to go snitch 

Flip a line and get the show lit 

You clown niggaz hold it 

Down your flow lax, just so you know that 

We could battle for days like old cats 

Black, you dealing with a throw back 

Winnin like straight jacks, with a wide range 

of rhyme teams, my lyrics they bang like migraines 

Nigga my name, Tray the terrible 

Philadelph, wild child incredible 

too sick for medical attention, people listen 

It's verbal ascension, like Maxwell many dimensions 

Flood over tracks, well, mics in critical condition 

Killin ya Maxell, unveil lyrical skills unknown 

for my people with illegal cell phones 

A real MC let's bring it back home 

Live from the two-one-five, that lost a back bone 

in charge, and heavily on like break fog 

You for saw it, nigga stay down 

Biggie make them hit the floor face down 

(Notorious B.I.G.) 

What, what, what, the rings and things you speak about 

bring em out, it's hard to yell with my bat round 

in your mouth, its more than I expected 

I thought them jewels was rented, but they wasn't 

So run it, cousin, I could chill the heat does it 

Ran up in your shell about a dozen, you never seen 

bank like Frank White, ya hand clutchin 

ya chest plate contemplates, bout to die nigga wait 

Keep ya hands high 

Chorus: repeat 2X 

You don't want to die, keep your hands high 

Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive 

So you know it's Tray and be	-I, G schemin on your cream 

Why try, keep ya hands high 

(Tracey Lee) 

Hey yo it's show time, so I'ma blow nines into your spine 

So what's yours is mine, you know what this is 

Bag the Benjamins with all ya riches 

How quickly, the milli turn Willies to bitches 

Controllin your fate, a hole in your plate 

F*ck the show dates, I want the whole state 

with squads harassin, all of y'all niggaz who flashin 

We doing this the Tray Lee way, delay 

Then nigga we spray, ain't no ignoring us 

Me and Notorious 

(Notorious B.I.G.) 

I got a new mouth to feed, I'm due south with keys 

y'all pick seeds out y'all weed, I watch cowards bleed 

Motherfucker please, it's my block with my rocks 

F*ck the hip-hop, them one-two's and it don't stop 

Me and my nigga Lance, took him and Cease in vans 

Bought ten bricks, four pounds of weed plants 

from Branson, now we lamp in, twelve room mansions 

Bitches get naked off Get Money, Playas Anthem 

Don't forget One More Chance and, my other hits 

Other shit niggaz spit be counterfeit 

Robbing come naturally, in and out like fuckin rapidly 

Pass the gat to me 

Make his chest rest where his back should be 

Fuckin blasphemy, blast me, your family rest in coffins 

Often, Franquiza, far from soft or fragile, uh 

Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper slash dope dealer 

slash guerilla, slash illest turn iller 

(Tracey Lee) 

So nigga keep ya hands high 

Run all your so called possessions, links with baguettes in 

Keys to your Lex, for us to make your shorties dressed in 

A full jack maneuver, don't no body move, just the moolah 

It's RNF and Junior M.A.F., runnin through ya like Kahlua 

If rum sung then you fly, niggaz with the 45 

but True Lies, but you brought out the real nigga in me 

Now I'ma cock the semi, watch you strip like Demi 


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Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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