Get 'Em High (Live)

I'm tryin' to catch the beat, uh I'm tryin' to catch the beat I'm tryin' to catch the beat, uh 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 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 alchoooool ics My freshman year I was goin through hell, a problem Still I, built up the nerve to drop my ass up outta collllllll ege 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 folllllllllll ow 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' 'cause we don't want to 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 than smoke again Keep em' high N n n n n now who the hell is this E mailin' me at 1126, tellin' me that she 36 26, plus double d You know how girls on black planet be when they get bubblee At N YU but she headed from Kansas, right now she just lampin, chillin on Campus Sent me a picture with a 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 dolls but Get em' high, I need some tracks you tryin' to pull tracks out And my rhymes as fittin' to blow you tryin' to blow back south Well ok, you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the charm, hey yo I though you meet that chick it that got friends with yo moms And she's the bomb, boy she got the boujI behavior Always got somethin' to say like a bookee playa hater Anyway, I don't usually fuck a interneter Draws stuck to they arm like Nicorette 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 remonte, control rap is not a Used soup it still got life, 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, 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, mosh 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 pro ducers is popular Twelve thousand spins, nobody got to coppin her Album, how come, you the hot garbager 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, illeaterate 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