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Get Em High



Kanye West - Get Em High - Текст песни

[Kanye West]
                      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

                    [Chorus: Kanye West]
                      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

                    [Verse 1: Kanye West]
                      N-n-n-now, my flow
                      Is in the pocket like Wallace, 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 Tro
                      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 ask hoes
                      That's why we here your music in fast fo'
                      Cuz we don't wanna here that weak shit no mo'

                    [Chorus: Kanye West]
                      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

                    [Verse 2: Kanye West]
                      N-n-n-n-n-now who the hell is this
                      E-mailin 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 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

                    [Verse 3: Talib Kweli]
                      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 asist with the charm, aiyyo
                      I though you meet that chickit 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 usualy 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 appoligize if I come off a little inconsiderate
                      I got the bubble cushion a sister could get ahead of it

                    [Verse 4: Common]
                      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, 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 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 populer
                      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 dansin 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

                    [Chorus: Kanye West]
                      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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