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Letras de Canciones / K / Kanye West / College Dropout / |
| Kanye West - Get em high |
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[Kanye West]
Iīm tryin to catch the beat, uh
Iīm tryin to catch the beat
Iīm tryin to catch the beat, uh uh, uh
Iīm 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 ainīt 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 canīt 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 Iīse a loser, I told her why donīt you kill me
I give a fuck if you fail me, Iīm gonna folllllllllll-ow
My heart, and if you follow the charts, to the plaques or the stacks
You ainīt gotta guess whoīs back, you see
Iīm so shy that you thought it was bashfull but this
bastardīs flow will bash a skull
And I will, cut your girl like Pastor Troy
And I donīt, usually smoke but pass the īdro
And I wonīt, give you that money that you askin foī
Why you think, me and Dame cool, we assholes
Thatīs why we here your music in fast foī
Cuz we donīt wanna here that weak shit no moī
[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 ainīt 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 hail 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, itīs 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
(Thatīs my favorite CD that I play at my crib)
I mean
(You donīt really know him, why is you lyin)
Yo Kwe, she donīt believe me, please pickup the line
She gonī think that Iīm lyin, just spit a couple of lines
Then maybe Iīll be able to give her dick all the time, and get her high
[Verse 3: Talib Kweli]
Yeah
I canīt 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, Iīll asist with the charm, aiyyo
Ainīt you meet that chick at the conference wit ya mom?
And sheīs the bomb, boy she got the boujI behavior
Always got somethin to say like an okay playa hater
Anyway, I donīt usualy fuck with the internet
Birth Controls stuck to they arm like Nicorette
You really fuckin that much, you tryin to get off cigarettes
And she think itīs fly, she ainīt 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
Yīall 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 too but still got love, thatīs why I abuse you who are not thugs
Rock clubs, itīs like Tiger, Woods in the hood, to have my own reality show
Called Soul Survivor, I stole all liver, niggaz in you
Youīse 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
Iīm here to resurrect me, mosh is to sexy to even make songs like these
Thatīs why the raw donīt 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 Iīm bread king like Simba
Bolder then Denver, I ainīt 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 ainīt 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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Webs amigas |
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