Talib Kweli - Get Em High lyrics

[Kanye West] I'm trying to catch the beat, uh I'm trying to catch the beat I'm trying to catch the beat, uh uh, uh I'm trying to catch the beat [Hook: Kanye West] N-now, th-th-throw your motherf**in' hands Get 'em high All the girls pa** the weed to your motherf**in' man Get 'em high Now I ain't never tell you to put down your hands Keep 'em high And if you're losin' your high then 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 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 a** up out of college My teacher said I'se a loser, I told her why don't you k** me I give a f** 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 ba*tard's flow will bash your skull And I will, cut your girl like Pastor Tro' And I don't, usually smoke But pa** the 'dro And I won't, give you that money that you asking for Why you think me and Dame cool? We a**holes That's why we hear your music in fast forward 'Cuz we don't wanna hear that weak sh** no mo' [Hook] [Verse 2: Kanye West + Sumeke Rainey] 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 of her feelin' on Candice Who said her favorite rapper was the late great Francis W-H-I-T-E, 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 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 pick up 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 [Verse 3: Talib Kweli] Yo, I can't believe this n***a use my name for picking up dimes But never mind, I need some tracks, you tryin' to pull tracks out And my rhymes is finna blow, you trying to blow backs out Well okay, you twisted my arm, I'll a**ist 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 okay playa hater Anyway, I don't usually f** with the Internet Or chicks with birth control stuck to they arm like Nicorette You really f**in' that much or trying to get off cigarettes? If she think it's fly, she ain't met a real n***a 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 [Verse 4: Common] Get 'em high like noon or the moon Or a room filled with smoke, a hype filled with dope Y'all a**umed I was doomed, out of tune But I still filled the notes with real n***a 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, to have my own reality show, called Soul Survivor I stole on liver, n***as than you You's a b**h 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 s**y to even make songs like these That's why the raw don't know your name, like Alicia Keys Too many featured emcees, and pro-ducers is popular Twelve thousand spins, nobody got to coppin' a Album, how come, you the hot garbage of The year's clear your image and snooped up Label got you souped up, tellin' 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 n***a Read the infra-red across your head, I'm bred king like Simba Bolder than Denver, I ain't a Madd Rapper Just an emcee with a temper You dancing 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 your hands up, get them motherf**ers higher then [Hook]