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Kanye West( Kanye Omari West )
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Get Em High Ft. Talib Kweli
Kanye West F I'm tryin' to catch the beat, uh I'm tryin' to catch the beat I'm tryin' to catch the beat, uh uh I'm tryin' to catch the beat
N-now, th-th-through ya motherfuckin' hands Get 'em high All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' 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 then smoke again Keep 'em high
N-n-now, my flow is in the pocket like wallets I got the bounce like hydraulics I can't call it, I got the swerve like alcoholics My freshman year I was goin' through hell, a problem Still I, built up the nerve to drop my ass up outta college
My teacher said I'se a loser, I told her 'Why don't you kill me I give a fuck if you fail me, I'm gonna follow 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 Troy 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 assholes That's why we here, your music in fast fo' 'Cuz we don't wanna here that weak shit no mo'
N-now, th-th-through ya motherfuckin' hands Get 'em high All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' 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 then smoke again Keep 'em high
N-n-now who the hell is this Emailin' me at 11:26, 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 hail from Kansas Right now she just lampin', chillin' on campus Sent me a picture with her 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 dick all the time and get her high Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Yeah, I can't believe this nigga use my name for pickin' up dimes But never mind, I need some tracks you tryin' to pull tracks out And my rhymes as fittin' to blow you tryin' to blow back south
Well, okay, you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the charm, aiyyo Ain't you meet that chick at the conference wit' ya mom? And she's the bomb, boy, she got the bouji behavior Always got somethin' to say like an okay playa hater Anyway, I don't usually fuck with the Internet
Birth controls stuck to they arm like Nicolette You really fuckin' that much, you tryin' 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 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 dope Y'all assumed I was doomed, out of tune but I still feel the notes The real nigga quotes
Real rappers is hard to find, like a remote Control rap is not a used too but still got love 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, niggaz 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, mosh is too 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 coppin' her Album, how come, you the hot garbage
The years clear your image and snooped up Label got you souped up, tellin' 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 dancin' 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 motherfuckers higher then
N-now, th-th-through ya motherfuckin' hands Get 'em high All the girls pass the weed to ya motherfuckin' 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
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