Q Tip - Higher(31 visits)

(Electronic Beeping noice for about 20 seconds)We on
a brand new page. ("Uh.") Millennium days, desperation on
the streets gotta find a new wayKeep the mics and choke
holds. The saga unfoldsMachavellian approaches executed by
the coachI'm in these streets like a ghostThe
air-jettin' artistTo the love, I hit 'em right
plus I hit the hardest, manI got a whole new approach for
the rhymin'You cherry cats slide, I'm holdin out
for the HeismanUh! You play the rappin' rollI
take the rap and sold, and intertwine it wit' mine
and turn a half to wholeI'm just a genie in a Jack
bottleThem fake ballin'-ass cats is just a wack
modelThis joint knocks wit' the force of a gat
throttleI live by 'You put it out, we get it
back' mottoHey. But who around but just your average
reproduction, loveRap is gettin' lose so all the ice
is screamin' 'Thug'What the hell is wrong?
I'm askin' in this songOne time I smoked hash
out of the hippies' bongOne of us is goin' laid
'cause I ain't gettin' played I leave you
right inside that shitty-ass bed you madeand walk along
chuggin' Baller's Brains, rockin' rings and
things and just waitin' for white rainsI got the
drive, dog. I hope the dogs' readyMy mentality on
dime chicks is stay sweatyWait up. Your wait up.
Wait up. Get your ("It's the Ummah for all time.")
wait up. Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. Get your
("The Ummah forevea!") wait up. Wait up. Your wait up.
Wait up. Get your ("GET YOUR WAAAIIIIIIIIIIT...") wait up.
Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. Get your ("..UP! UP!
UP! UP! Yo!" ) wait up.You wanna shoot dice or wanna
shoot rounds? Wanna sell rhymes or wanna sell pounds? The decision is yours. I'd rather see tours, get
chicks wit' ghetto shit fallin' out they drawersMy team stay posted. They stay roastedNiggas who all in
it had a hard knock livin'Administra, rhyme minista,
illa treasuraYou didn't know that your man was a
legend, huh? Embonishment for the both of youI hit
the road and I take my whole fuckin' crewcause
I'm a Queens cat. ("True.") To the G's cat. ("True.")
Gettin' money for more than one needs cat. ("Aiiight,
c'mon.") Condition never peers and ("Take it home,
kid.") mind stands outFrom Seattle to South Beach my
joint: grand cloutIt's the street commentator,
providin' you wit' data on how to live unique
and it's really not neat. We gotta...Wait up.
Your wait up. Wait up. Get your ("Yeah. Yeah, yeah,
yeah.") wait up. Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. Get
your ("Brand new shit, huh.") wait up. Wait up. Your wait
up. Wait up. Get your ("GET YOUR WAAAIIIIIIIIIIT...") wait
up. Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. Get your ("..UP!
UP! UP! YEAH! HA-HAA...") wait up. And all the
fellas go, 'Yeah, yeah, yeah.'And all my ladies
go, 'Uh, uh, uh.'And all the fellas go,
'Yeah, yeah, yeah.'And all the ladies go,
'Uh, uh, uh.'Fellas go, 'Where you
at?'Ladies go, 'Yo, come back!'Fellas
go...ladies go...Fellas go...ladies...yo...A
mellow disposition even when it's painYour mental
ammunition is faulty wit' a drainI puts it down,
Lord, Fuck a mic cordBrother's out of his game so we
can see toursThe innovator - your man still a haterThe Abstract imprint, it stays like a SmintI got the
masses cold, wigglin' and shakin' they assMa,
you betta get involved and do it real fast(Beeping
starts again but with instrumental backing it)













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