Get Em High Ft. Talib Kweli

Get Em High Ft. Talib Kweli Lyrics

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

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