Higher

By Twista

On Kamikaze

Released on January 27, 2004

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[Intro: Twista & Ludacris]

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

(Yeeah) Got to let them know who is this? (Ludacris)

And who else nigga? (Twista, wooo, ahhh)

Uh, uh (Check it out)


[Verse 1: Ludacris]

Sometimes I think that I got to 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 them, distract them, and whack them

Jack a nigga for the Damon Dames and I yak them, attack them, and sack them

Get a weapon and I crack his brain 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'm a lift them up off of they toes

With a street sweeper regulating quarters, and ki's, and o's

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

Smoking, choking, get them 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 nigga off

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

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"


[Chorus: Twista]

Throw it up if you get high, get blow, 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 want to party

Just shake it, great players get pumped

Me and my thugs, and hustlers in the party

Get money fuck hoes, get crunk


[Verse 2: Twista]

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

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

Got me all filthy, ripping shit in a rage

In a navy blue Pelle, heat by the belly

Gucci Timberland steppin' on the pedal up in the 'Llac truck

Want to 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 want to do it

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

Empty out buckets of blood for fucking with thugs that'll bury

My adversaries better not want none of Twis'

Represent for my city, anybody that diff'rent with me

Gotta get him for thinking it's a game

And whether you from my city or not, talk shit

I'mma 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, smokin' on a fat piller

Murder haters that don't feel a

Niggas claiming they want to 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 or drop that 2000 and (three) on 19


[Chorus: Twista]

Throw it up if you get high, get blow, 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 want to party

Just shake it, great players get pumped

Me and my thugs, and hustlers in the party

Get money fuck hoes, get crunk


[Verse 3: Twista]

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

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

Hang on cause here I'm gone

In the motherfucking wind while I'm sippin on Henn'

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 wit venom

And put some adrenaline in him, kill him, and send him to the cemetery

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

Nigga 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 come up when the lil' Mob's in need

Nigga you ain't untouchable when I spark the heat

Coming at you like sharks to meat

'Til blood start to leak, I can tell when a 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


[Chorus: Twista]

Throw it up if you get high, get blow, 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 want to party

Just shake it, great players get pumped

Me and my thugs, and hustlers in the party

Get money fuck hoes, get crunk

[Outro: Twista & Wildstyle]

Pass me the..

Let me smoke my..

Yeeah, this a Wildstyle production

Twista and Ludacris collabo, get it, get it

Get it, uh, yeeah