I'm tryin' to catch the beat I'm tryin' to catch the beat I'm tryin' to catch the beat I'm tryin' to catch the beat Now, throw 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 Now, my flow is in the pocket like Wallace I got the bounce like hydraulics I can't call it, I got the swerve like alcoholics My freshman year I was goin' through hella problems 'Til 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 bashful 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 assholes That's why we here your music in fast fo' 'Cuz we don't wanna here that weak shit no mo' Now, throw 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 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 hailed 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 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 backs out Well okay you twisted my arm, I'll assist with the charm, aiyo Ain't you meet that chick at that conference with yo moms? And she's the bomb, boy, she got the bougey behavior Always got somethin' to say like a okayplaya hater Anyway, I don't usually fuck with the interneter Chicks with birth control stuck to they arm like Nicolette You really fuckin' that much, you tryin' to get off cigarettes If 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 a hit 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 soup it still got life, that's why I abuse you who are not thugs Rock clubs 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 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, illiterate nigga Read the infa, red across your head I'm bread king like Simba Bolder than Denver I ain't a mad rapper Just a emcee with a temper You dancin' for money like honey, I did this my way So when the industry crash, I survived like Kanye Spittin' through wires and fires, emcees retirin' Got yo hands up, get them motherfuckers higher then Now, throw 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 © EMI BLACKWOOD MUSIC INC.; SONGS OF UNIVERSAL INC; PLEASE GIMME MY PUBLISHING, INC.; SENSELESS MUSIC; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com