Kanye West - Get Em High lyrics

Album: The College Dropout (2004)

[Kanye West]
I am tryin to catch the beat, uh
I am tryin to catch the beat
I am tryin to catch the beat, uh uh, uh
I am tryin to catch the beat

[Chorus: Kanye West]
N-now, th-th-through ya motherf*ckin hands
GET EM HIGH
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherf*ckin man
GET EM HIGH
Now I aint 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 cannot call it, I got the swerve like alchoooool-ics
My freshman yeahr 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 f*ck if you fail me, I am going to folllllllllll-ow
My heart, & if you follow the charts, to the plaques or the stacks
You aint have got to guess who has back, you see
I am so shy that you thought it was bashfull but this
bastard´s flow will bash a skull
And I´ll, cut your girl like Pastor Tro
And I do not, usually smoke but pass the ´dro
And I would not, give you that money that you askin fo´
Why you think, me & Dame cool, we ask hoes
That is why we here your music in fast fo´
Cuz we do not want to here that weak shit no mo´

[Chorus: Kanye West]
N-now, th-th-through ya motherf*ckin hands
GET EM HIGH
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherf*ckin man
GET EM HIGH
Now I aint 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 is gettin late mami, your screen saver say tweet
So you got to call me, & bring a friend for my friend
His name Kweli
(You mean Talib, lyric sticks to your rib)
I mean
(That is my favorite CD that I play at my crib)
I mean
(You do not really know him, why is you lyin)
Yo Kwe, she don´t believe me, please pickup the line
She gon´ think that I am lyin, just spit a couple of lines
Then maybe I will be able to give her dick all the time, & get her high

[Verse 3: Talib Kweli]
Yea
I cannot believe this nigga use my name for pickin up dimes 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 will asist with the charm, aiyyo
I though you meet that chickit that got friends with yo moms
And she has the bomb, boy she got the boujI behavior
Always got somethin to say like a bookee playa hater
Anyway, I do not usualy f*ck a interneter
Draws stuck to they arm like Nicorette
You really f*ckin that much, you tryin to get off cigarettes
And she think it is fly, she aint 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 isn´t a
Used soup it still got life, that is why I abuse you who are not thugs
Rock clubs, it is 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 am here to resurrect me, mosh is to sexy to even make songs like these
That is why the raw don´t know your name, like Alicia Keys
To many featured emcees, & pro-ducers is populer
Twelve thousand spins, nobody got to coppin her
Album, how come, you the hot garbager
The yeahrs clear your image & 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 am bread king like Simba
Bolder then Denver, I aint 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 & fires, emcees retirin
Got yo hands up, get them motherf*ckers higher then

[Chorus: Kanye West]
N-now, th-th-through ya motherf*ckin hands
GET EM HIGH
All the girls pass the weed to ya motherf*ckin man
GET EM HIGH
Now I aint 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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