Higher (feat. Ludacris)

Yeah, you know it's about to go down, right?

Yeah, gotta let 'em know who is this? Ludacris

And who else, ****? Twista, ****, ahh

Uh, uh, check it out

Sometimes I think that I gotta see a little bit of brighter days

'Cause I could find myself to a city near you in a solid cage

And you could look to the left or the right

But I'm trapped on center stage

And I could rap to the beat but I don't know how to change my ways

I still hear a fool and I track 'em, distract 'em and whack 'em

Jack a **** for the day to days and I yak 'em, attack 'em, and sack 'em

Get a weapon and I crack his brains 'cause I'm a hustler, baller, pro

And it wouldn't be right for me to be around

Busters and crawlers and hoes

But I'm a pimp at night so talk shit

And I'ma lift 'em up off of they toes

With a street sweeper regulating quarters and keys and O's

In a two-seater, Ludacris and Twista with bags of dro

Smoking, choking, get 'em open, croaking

It's so potent, I'm hoping to keep on floating

I'm soaking wet and you can bet, people, I'm high

I'm seeing lions and tigers and bears, oh, my

And I can't hide it or keep it hidden, good riddance, I'm feeling good

I'm weapon-concealing, still in my neighborhood

Would, could and should break a **** off

They'll see you later, go to the doctor, hold my balls and

You caught the vapors and I caught the throne

Brain blown, honey, I'm home

Give me the microphone and fools is like, leave me alone

Throw it up if you get high, get blown, get drunk

If you want what I'm on, come on and kick it

Let's ride, smoke dro, beat the trunk

All the bad ass bitches that wanna party

Just shake it, great players get pumped

Me and my thugs and hustlers in the party

Get money, fuck hoes, get crunk

Look out, I put a little bit of hash on some motherfucking purple haze

I feel it all in my body, adrenaline with the Bacardi

Got me all filthy, ripping shit in a rage

In the navy blue platinum, he by the belly, Gucci

Timberland stepping on the pedal up in the 'llac truck

Wanna get me for the wood

Better get the whole motherfucking hood

To come and give you some back up

We can get into it if you wanna do it

I'm leaking the fluid out of the bodies that wanna come at this

Empty out buckets of blood for fucking with thugs

That'll bury my adversaries better, want none of Twis'

Represent for my city, anybody that differ with me

Got to get him for thinking it's a game

And whether you from my city or not

Talk shit, I'ma kill him, especially if he say my name

I've been up on him, I handle my business on him

And stick him up for the scrilla from K-Tilla

Smoking on a fat pillar

Murder haters that don't feel a

**** claiming they wanna bring it but really don't be killers

Balling out so hard the size of my rims grow

To a hellafied sight scene

When the dough become no bigger

I'ma flip and drop that two-thousand **** your nineteen

Throw it up if you get high, get blown, get drunk

If you want what I'm on, come on and kick it

Let's ride, smoke dro, beat the trunk

All the bad ass bitches that wanna party

Just shake it, great players get pumped

Me and my thugs and hustlers in the party

Get money, fuck hoes, get crunk

When balling out of control, I floss on, flame on, pimp on

A speed demon, pedal to the metal when I'm in the zone

Hang on 'cause him gone

In the motherfucking wind when I'm sipping on Hen'

I got cake while you owe something

And I done came a long way from letting me hold something

To roll something

Find a victim and fill him with venom

And put some adrenaline in him, kill him

And send him to the cemetary

With a flow full of horror like a poltergeist

He called to Christ when he saw how many men I buried

Shit and when it come to chiefing good

****, who that? Do that, I got the sack open

And the herb got the flow so strong

That I might crack the track, go back to back smoking

Never coming up when the mob's in need

****, you ain't untouchable, not when I spark the heat

Coming at you like sharks to meat

Till blood starts to leak, I can tell when the mark's heart is weak

Come fully loaded 'cause I'm hard to beat

Always screaming, where the drink and the dro at?

You know we love that cut up

In the back of the club with purple in the bag, chronic

Twis' and Ludacris get fucked up

Throw it up if you get high, get blown, get drunk

If you want what I'm on, come on and kick it

Let's ride, smoke dro, beat the trunk

All the bad ass bitches that wanna party

Just shake it, great players get pumped

Me and my thugs and hustlers in the party

Get money, fuck hoes, get crunk

Pass me the **** let me smoke my ****

Yeah, this a Wildstyle production

Twista and Ludacris collabo

Get it, get it, get it, uh, yeah