I mean that's my favorite CD that I play at my crib
Get em high
The years clear your image and snooped up
Chimped up, with a pimp cup, illiterate nigga
Got yo hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then
They say Hip-Hop is dead, I'm here to resurrect me
Used soup it still got life, that's why I abuse you who are not thugs
Now, I ain't never tell you to put down ya hands
How could I ever let your words affect me?
Your screen saver say tweet so you got to call me
I apologize if I come off a little inconsiderate
She gon' think that I'm lyin', just spit a couple of lines
Rock clubs like Tiger Woods
Bolder than Denver I ain't a mad rapper
Get em high
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' man
My teacher said I'se a loser, I told her, "Why don't you kill me?
Then maybe I'll be able to give her dick all the time and get her high
And bring a friend for my friend his name Kweli
Even your club record need a booster
Sent me a picture with her feelin' on Candice
Now, I ain't never tell you to put down ya hands
And if ya losin' yo high then smoke again
Album, how come, you the hot garbager
Video hard to watch like Medusa
Keep em high
And if ya losin' yo high then smoke again
I'm tryin' to catch the beat
I mean you don't really know him, why is you lyin'?
Y'all assumed I was doomed out of tune
I can't believe this nigga use my name for pickin' up dimes
Get em high
Anyway, I don't usually fuck with the interneter
W-H-I-T, it's gettin' late mami
Now, throw ya motherfuckin' hands
Publishers: EMI BLACKWOOD MUSIC INC., PLEASE GIMME MY PUBLISHING, INC., SENSELESS MUSIC, SONGS OF UNIVERSAL INC
In the hood to have my own reality show
That's why we here your music in fast fo'
I'm tryin' to catch the beat
Read the infa, red across your head I'm bread king like Simba
Now, my flow is in the pocket like Wallace
Songwriters: Talib Kweli, Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Kanye West
But never mind I need some tracks you tryin' to pull tracks out
You ain't gotta guess who's back, you see?
Now, throw ya motherfuckin' hands
That she 36-26, plus double-d
Label got you souped up, tellin' you, you sick
Get em high
Now, I ain't never tell you to put down ya hands
Yo Kwe, she don't believe me, please pickup the line
When they get bubblee
Get em high
I got the bounce like hydraulics
But this bastard's flow will bash a skull
Chicks with birth control stuck to they arm like Nicolette
Now, throw ya motherfuckin' hands
Keep em high
Keep em high
Get em high like noon or the moon
Real rappers is hard to find like a remote control, rap is not a
I can't call it, I got the swerve like alcoholics
E-mailin' me at 11:26, tellin' me
Keep em high
Keep em high
To many featured emcees and producers is popular
If she think it's fly, she ain't met a real nigga yet
Ain't you meet that chick at that conference with yo moms?
At NYU but she hailed from Kansas
You mean Talib, lyric sticks to your rib
And I won't give you that money that you askin' fo'
Who said her favorite rapper was the late great Francis
And she's the bomb, boy, she got the bougey behavior
You know how girls on Black Planet be
And my rhymes as fittin' to blow you, tryin' to blow backs out
Mosh is too sexy to even make songs like these
I got the bubble cushion, a sister could get a hit of it
I'm so shy that you thought it was bashful
I'm tryin' to catch the beat
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' man
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' man
Get em high
'Cuz we don't wanna here that weak shit no mo'
Called Soul Survivor, I stole all liver, niggaz in you
I'm tryin' to catch the beat
And if ya losin' yo high then smoke again
I give a fuck if you fail me, I'm gonna follow
You dancin' for money like honey, I did this my way
Man you a dick with a loose nut
Right now she just lampin', chillin' on campus
You'se a bitch, I got ones that are thicker than you
Well okay you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the charm, aiyo
Just a emcee with a temper
My heart and if you follow the charts to the plaques or the stacks"
My freshman year I was goin' through hella problems
Twelve thousand spins, nobody got to coppin' her
'Til I built up the nerve to drop my ass up outta college
That's why the raw don't know your name, like Alicia Keys
So when the industry crash, I survived like Kanye
Always got somethin' to say like a okayplaya hater
You really fuckin' that much, you tryin' to get off cigarettes
But I still feel the notes the real nigga quotes
Spittin' through wires and fires, emcees retirin'
Keep em high
Or room filled with smoke, a high filled with dope
And I don't usually smoke but pass the dro
And I will cut your girl like Pastor Tro
Now who the hell is this?
Why you think me and dame cool? We assholes