Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Rated R, Beedie & EZ Mac] That's how it is Ill Spoken, How High: The Mixtape Rated R and Diggz, RapMullet.com Hey, yo, yo, Mac, what's good, son? What's good, Beedie? Ayo, yo, yo (Bobby, yo) Ayo, this cat, he say he wanna battle you, yo (What?) Can't forget Brick The whole Timebomb crew Ayo (Let's go), ayo [Interlude: EZ Mac, DJ Rated R & Beedie] See, we rode up in the Cadillac (Go get your life right; Yo), blindin' like a cataract Made it to the party (Yo), it was poppin' like a Snapple— See, we rode up in the Cadillac (Yo), blindin' like a cataract Made it to the party (Yo), it was poppin'— (Uh) [Verse 1: EZ Mac & Beedie] See, we rode up in the Cadillac (Yo), blindin' like a cataract Made it to the party (Yo), it was poppin' like a Snapple cap (Chyeah) Therе was this one kid that said he want to battle Mac And I was thеre just in case I had to have his back, yeah (Yo) And when I rocked this rap, dropped the cat kinda like a boxin' match Threw him off the roof to see if he'd make a "plop" or "splat" Cops came around talkin' down to me (Damn) I was sweatin' 'bout this ounce of tree that they found on me (Chill) Told 'em that he lost his footin' pissin' off the balcony Fell a thousand feet, broke every bone in his body, and drowned in pee And no one was around to see, so stop clownin' me I was on the roof and the whole party was all down at 3 "Son, I really don't have to hurt you" (Yeah?) "But it's 3 in the mornin', which is way past your curfew" (So?) "I have a dish of justice from which I could serve you" (And?) "And don't try and run 'cause this gun ain't gon' squirt you" Paint his name with the pick in his mouth A fat dip in his lip, he was spittin' it out Look like a hick from the south, tighter shirt than a gay man That comb-over cut with some Aviator Ray-Bans Pain on his name sign, holdin' back a K9 Hip-hop police, at least I heard it through the grapevine See, this the fed that would arrest you in the daytime "Son, what's this bag of marijuana?" Well, it ain't mine [Verse 2: Beedie & EZ Mac] Ha, it ain't mine, I just hit 'cause it taste fine (Uh-huh) I swear that I did it in hell; in hell, I don't waste time They said, "You lyin', 'cause I seen you up in the south side Plus, I seen your face on a poster that states 'How High'" I screamed, "Oh my, you must've gotten me mistaken" (Uh-huh) I reached up for his gun, he grabbed my wrist to start to break it Now, I ain't fakin' when I say the jake is the enemy (True) He didn't feel I respect him, so he beat it up into me Hip-hop, the penalty is death before we settle these Beefs with police is tryna take a bigger shred of cheese (Fuck 'em) He said to freeze, so I got at the fence and jumped (Peace) And ran back to the crib, grabbed a shotty, and pumped it I started dumpin' at the crowd that was surroundin' me This semi-automatic splattin' heads up on the balcony (Shit was crazy; What?) I looked at Mac and said, "We better run Fuckin' get a gun so we can fall back with cheddar to burn" (Yo) Ayo, you think they'll find where we hidin' at? (Nah) Well, I say no, let's lay low and count up our paper, peepin' the pay roll (It's money) People get played, yo (Uh-huh) That's how it has to be, livin' with no limits, need digits similar to Master P (That's cheese) And every day it feels like I'm livin at faster speeds Gon' keep roamin' until I crash, the catastrophe (Yeah) [Verse 3: EZ Mac & Beedie] See, these bastards be up on my back while I be runnin' In the neighbors' yards, I get to bask and weave at somethin' (Peace) I'm in and out quickly (Yup, yup), smooth and swiftly Yo, watch for the cops on my back tryna get me Nah, they ain't gon' find us, them pussy cops just vaginas Let's split up this money, see you mañana (Sho' right, got you) You know they ain't gon' hold us They probably already found they way to Dunkin' Donuts (Pigs) So on the wages, grab some blunts that we could fold up Waitin' in the car, so what's the hold-up? [Outro: EZ Mac & Beedie] (Ayo) Ayo, man, let me get two Swishers Do you have ID? Nah Hey, no ID, no blunt Man, come on, man You see me every day, man (No ID, no blunt), come on, man Aight, yo, fine Ayo, Beedie, man Ayo, what's good, man? You get them blunts? What the fuck, son? Nah, yo, they carded me, man (Pssh) Man, just—just gr—just get it out— Give me the fuckin' dollar, I'm fuckin'— Man, fuck you, Beedie (Whatever)