Let’s Get High Lyrics

They’re all very different people, they come from very different backgrounds
About the only thing they have in common is dedication to what they are doing
If they didn’t have that, they wouldn’t stay alive

1: Pat Stash
First of all, shout outs the ports of call
I sort of fall victim to the worst reports
Of course it’s forced, the trap is the first retort
I try and walk tall, when my money is short
This ain’t heaven sent man, it’s built with bare hands
Man’s got bare plans, looking to the future
Some got none, 9-5 computers
Pеace to commuters, and workplace till lootеrs
Still shooters and pints, on Saturday night shift
A right is my right, it’s tight like the vice grip
Wrapped on my right wrist, it’s deep when I’m like this
See when I’m hypest, Pat Stash the tightest
On the market, I can’t see a better offer
I stay cark, cuh your routine like benta-coppers
To East End friends, it’s best if we sell the toast
Make a false move, get turned into reticles

2: Young Max
Yo what the hell is this they’re selling us? I’m not buying none of it
I’ll buy a rusted bayonet and wave it at the sun and shit
And that’s about the sum of it, so far, lately
Running summit right though, the fake G’s hate me
Like, no way baby, I never wanna go
I wanna stay up on the stage with the rave it up flow
Yo, the off the top rockin’ is, got spots poppin’ this
Proper hot, nonstop, stuff for your offices
Office jobs, officers, and offers little promises
The hollowed out models who, call themselves your followers
I’ll follow this, honest shit, let me speak upon it
See, tone is the tonic for the modern goddess prophet shit
Allow the champ, I wanna win it for the team
We got soul light out there, in it for the green
Another cynic with a dream, no mimic of the scene
There’s no limit to the cream, but I wanna hear you scream

Let’s get high
A lot of stressin’ cause the stressin’ ain’t right
Let’s get high
Forget the rest, man, the rest is just hype

2: Pat Stash
You better watch your watch, cause time waits for no man
The track make you hold hands, like a slow jam
Even if your heart’s cold, like a snowman
You hear the flow, see the focus in the program
You mans can’t cut the mustard
I’m pullin’ out all stops, the two thousand pack, pullin’ the shots
Smash the chops, got beats like cash pots
You might have forgot, the star forged in the year dot
I fear not, get your ears hot
Beer’s got purchase from the beer shop
Guzzle when I hear stop
I get ahead of myself, so in the future I’ll be lookin’ back
I’m breadin’ myself, broke and beggin’ for wealth
Spent cash on wax and wine
I got vision when most mans are lackin’ design
Lackin’ a spine, in the corner wastin’ your time
And that’s fine, I made this nice with mind, like

3: Young Max
Yeah, we got the styles to make a trucker hat, sucker stare
Stash that in your Donald Duck Tupperware
The best test of the greater or the lesser
Do you stress it on the pressure or do you just get fresher?
Admire in the mud, blood and fire for the gob
Like wire to the dog base, struggle with the sub
And the beats keep on comin’ like moths to a flame
Reinvest returns off the cost of the game
Lanes floss with the chain, I’m stayin’ in the trades
But not afraid to say it, cause I paid and displayed love, since day one
Since Neil Kinnick is still in it
Killin’ out the rhythm and distilling ill lyrics
Yeah, we bump Bill Withers, makin’ nil figures
Since eatin’ school dinners and we’re still spinnin’ winners
Even hill-figure killers, big up ill diggers
Cause the real kids dig us, are you all still with us

Let’s get high
A lot of stressin’, cause the stressin’ ain’t right
Let’s get high
Forget the rest, man, the rest is just hype
Let’s get high
A lot of stressin’, cause the stressin’ ain’t right
Let’s get high
Forget the rest, man, the rest is all shite
Dirty Diggers, Freakishly Strong
Empire Crate Production
Comin’ to a town near you
Any day soon

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