调：F# minor•
Verse 1
Uh, I'm tryna catch the beat
I'm tryna catch the beat,
I'm tryna catch the beat
Verse 2
yo' motherfuckin' hands
Get 'em high
All the girls pass the weed to
yo' motherfuckin' man
A
F#m
E
Get 'em high
put down your hands
Keep 'em high
And if ya losin' yo' high
then smoke again
Keep 'em high
Verse 3
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
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
you see?
it was bashful
But this bastard's flow will bash a skull
And I will cut your girl like Pastor Tro
that you askin' fo'
Why you think me and dame
cool? We assholes
That's why we here your music
that weak shit no mo'
Verse 4
yo' motherfuckin' hands
Get 'em high
All the girls pass the weed to
yo' motherfuckin' man
A
F#m
E
Get 'em high
F#m
E
F#m
Now, I ain't never tell you to
put down your hands
Keep 'em high
And if ya losin' yo' high
then smoke again
Keep 'em high
Verse 5
Who the hell is this?
F#
F#m
E- mailin' me at 11:26, tellin' me
That she 36- 26, plus double- d
A
F#m
You know how girls on Black Planet be
chillin' on campus
Sent me a picture with
it's gettin' late, mami
Your screen saver say tweet
so you got to call me
And bring a friend for my friend
E
F#m
F#
E
You mean Talib, lyric sticks to your rib?
that I play at my crib
I mean you don't really know him,
why is you lyin'?
Yo Kwe, she 'on't believe
all the time and get her high
Yeah (ow!)
Verse 6
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
Ain't you meet that chick at that conference
wit' yo' moms?
And she's the bomb,
boy, she got the bougie behavior
Always got somethin' to say like
to they arm like Nicolette
If she think it's fly,
F#
F#m
she ain't met a real nigga yet (no)
I apologize if I come off a little
inconsiderate
I got the bubble cushion,
Verse 7
or the moon
Or room filled with smoke,
a high filled with dope
Y'all assumed I was doomed out of tune
Real rappers is hard to find like a remote control,
rap is not a
Used soup it still got life,
A
F#m
that's why I ab use you who are not thugs
Verse 8
F#m
E
F#m
like Tiger Woods
In the hood to have my own reality show
Called Soul Survivor, I stole all liver,
affect me?
They say hip- hop is dead,
I'm here to resurrect me
Mosh is too sexy to even
make songs like these
A
F#m
That's why the raw don't know your name,
Verse 9
MCs and
producers is popular
12 thousand spins,
nobody got to coppin' her
Album, how come,
The years clear your im
tellin' you, you sick
Man you a dick with a loose nut
Verse 10
like Medusa
F#m
A
F#m
Even your club record need
E
a booster
illiterate nigga
Read the infa, red across yo'
head I'm bread king like Simba
Bolder than Denver I ain't
I did this my way
So when the industry crash,
I survived like Kanye
Spittin' through wires and fires,
Got yo' hands up,
Verse 11
F#m
hands
Get 'em high (yeah)
All the girls pass the weed
to yo' motherfuckin' man
E
(uh- uh, uh- uh, uh- uh)
F#m
E
F#m
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 ya losin' yo' high
then smoke again
Keep 'em high
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