Higher Lyrics

Twista - Higher Lyrics

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Higher Lyrics

Artist: Twista f/ Ludacris, Wildstyle

Album:  Kamikaze

Song:   Higher

Typed by: JamaalBigCat@aol.com



[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 confine 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 day to days 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

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 felling good

I'm weapon-concealing, stealing 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 caused some 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 over my body, adrenaline with the Bacardi

Got me up and then rippng shit in a rage

In the netti cofetti with a belly, Gucci

Timberland stepping on the petal up in the Cadillac 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 and if you want to do it

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

If they all get some blood for fucking with thugs that I bury

My adversaries better not want none of Twis'

Represent for my city, anybody that different 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

And I'm a stick him up for the scrilla, from K-Tilla, smoking on a fat piller

Murder haters that don't feel a

Niggaz 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'm going to drop that 2003 on 19"



[Chorus: Twista]



[Verse 3: Twista]

We balling out of control, I floss on, play 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 when I'm sippin on Henn'

I got paper, you owe something

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

Find a body, then fill him up with some adrenaline

And then kill him and send him to the cemetery

With a flow for the whole world like a poet,

Check icy cold, your Pop's so hungry, he mends a berry

Shit, and when it come to shipping good

Who that?, who that?, I got the sack open

And the herb got the flow so strong

Hot them on crack, the track is for back-to-back smoking

Never come up with it unwise, and he

nigga you ain't untouchable when I spark the heat

Coming at you like sharks to meat

the blood is softly, I can tell when a mark is hard as we

Come fully loaded cause I'm hard to beat

always screaming where a beat and the dro at?

You know we love that cut up

In the back of the club with purple in the back crying

Twis' and Ludacris get fucked up



[Chorus: Twista]



[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)