Get Em High
(专辑: College Dropout - 2004)
[Kanye West:] Uh-uh, I'm tryna catch the
beat, uh I'm tryna to catch the
beat I'm tryna to catch the
beat, uh uh, uh I'm tryna to catch the
beat [Kanye West:] N-now, th-th-throw your motherfucking hands (Get 'em high) All the
girls pass the
weed to yo' motherfucking man (Get 'em high) Now I
ain't never tell you to put down your hands (Keep 'em high) And if you're losing your high then smoke again (Keep 'em high) [Kanye West:] N-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 going through hella problems 'Til I, built up the
nerve to drop my ass up out of 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, or the
plaques or the
stacks You ain't gotta guess who's back, you see I'm so Chi that you thought I
was bashful But this bastard's flow will bash your 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 asking for Why you think me and Dame cool? We assholes That's why we hear your music in fast forward 'Cause we don't wanna hear that weak shit no mo' [Kanye West:] N-now, th-th-throw your motherfucking hands (Get 'em high) All the
girls pass the
weed to your motherfucking man (Get 'em high) Now I
ain't never tell you to put down your hands (Keep 'em high) And if you're losing yo' high, then smoke again (Keep 'em high) [Kanye West & Sumeke Rainey:] ("You've got mail!") N-n-n-n-n-now who the
hell is this E-mailing me at 11:26? Telling me that she 36-26, plus double D
You know how girls on Black Planet be when they get bubbly At NYU but she hail from Kansas Right now she just lamping, chilling on campus Sent me a
picture with her feeling on Candice Who said her favorite rapper was the
late great Francis W-H-I-T, it's getting 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? Lyrics stick 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 pick up the
line She gon' think that I'm lying, just spit a
couple of lines Then maybe I'll be able to give her dick all the
time And get her high! Owww! [Talib Kweli:] Yeah, I
can't believe this nigga use my name for picking up dimes But never mind, I
need some tracks, you trying to pull tracks out And my rhymes is finna blow, you trying to blow backs out Well OK, you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the
charm Ayo, ain't you meet that chick at that conference with your moms? And sister's the
bomb, boy she got the
bougie behavior Always got something to say like a
OK player hater Anyways, I
don't usually fuck with the
Internet Or chicks with birth control stuck to they arm like Nicorette You really fucking that much or tryna get off cigarettes? (Keep 'em high) If she think it's fly, she ain't met a
real nigga yet Now I
apologize if I
come off a
little inconsiderate I
got the
bubba kush and a
sister could get a
hit of it, yeah [Common:] Yo, yo Get 'em high like noon or the
moon Or a
room filled with smoke, a
hype-filled with dope Y'all assumed I
was doomed, out of tune But I
still filled the
notes with real nigga quotes Real rappers is hard to find, like a
remote Control rap is out of Used to, but still got love That's why I
abuse you who are not thugs Rock clubs, it's like Tiger Woods in the
hood Should have my own reality show, called Soul Survivor I
stole on liver niggas than you You's 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 Marsha's too sexy to even make songs like these That's why the
raw don't know your name, like Alicia Keys Too many featured MCs, and producers is popular Twelve thousand spins, nobody got to copping a
Album, how come you the
hot garbage of The
year? It's clear your image is looped up Label got you souped up, telling you you sick When 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
infra Red across your head, I'm bred king like Simba Bolder than Denver, I
ain't a
Madd Rapper Just a
MC with a
temper You dancing for money like Honey, I
did this my way So when the
industry crash, I
survive like Kanye Spitting through wires and fires, MCs retiring Got your hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then [Kanye West & Common:] N-now, th-th-throw your motherfucking hands (Get 'em high, yeah) All the
girls pass the
weed to your motherfucking man (Get 'em high, mm-mm, uh-uh) Now I
ain't never tell you to put down your hands (Keep 'em high, keep 'em high, keep 'em high, uh-uh) And if you're losing your high then smoke again (Keep 'em high)