[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,