[40 seconds of instrumental to start]
[Black Thought]
Get 'em up high - okay, yeah
[Chorus]
Go all-star, and get down for yours
To the ladies in the house, be proud of yours
You got the, Roots crew with the sound of course
High, lift 'em up high, okay
[Black Thought]
When that adrenaline get in they system
It get 'em out on a quest for stardom, could be a motherfuckin problem
in Philly, Cincinatti, Los Angeles or Harlem
Kids call theyself killers let they hammers do the talkin
Don't even know the meaning of life, ain't seen a thing
and you dream of floodin the scenery with, llello and greenery
But for now, you stickin her with the heavy machinery
Wonder how, you lift it up, be only 17
And like e'rybody he wanna shine, young brothers on the grind
Holdin somethin in they spine,
