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Get 'em High Lyrics

[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 m*********** hands
GET EM HIGH
All the girls pass the weed to ya m*********** 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 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 a** up outta collllllll-ege
My teacher said I'se a loser, I told her why don't you kill me
I give a f*** 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
b******s flow will bash a skull
And I will, cut your girl like Pastor Tro
And I don't, usualy 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 a** holes
That's why we here your music in fast fo'
Cuz we don't wanna here that weak s*** no mo'

[Chorus: Kanye West]
N-now, th-th-through ya m*********** hands
GET EM HIGH
All the girls pass the weed to ya m*********** 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] + (girl)
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 d*** all the time, and get her high
[Verse 3: Talib Kweli]
Yeah
I can't believe this n**** use my name for pickin up dimes
GET EM HIGH
I need some tracks you tryin to pull tracks out
And my rhymes as fittin to blow you tryin to blow backs out
Well ok
You twisted my arm, I'll asist with the charm, aiyyo
Ain't you meet that chick at that conference with yo moms
And she's the bomb
Boy she got the bouji behavior
Always got somethin to say like a okayplaya hater
Anyway, I don't usualy f*** a interneter
Chicks with birth control stuck to they arm like Nicorette
You really f***** that much, you tryin to get off cigarettes
If she think it's fly, she ain't met a real n**** yet
I appoligize if I come off a little inconsiderate
I got the bubble cushion a sister could get a hit 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 a**umed I was doomed, out of tune, but I still feel the notes
The real n**** 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, n***** in you
You'se a b**** 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 s**y 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 d*** with a loose nut
Video hard to watch like Medusa
Even your club record need a booster
Chimped up, with a pimp cup, illeaterate n****
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 m************ higher then

[Chorus: Kanye West]
N-now, th-th-through ya m*********** hands
GET EM HIGH
All the girls pass the weed to ya m*********** 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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