Higher Songtext
von Fashawn

Can we get much higher? So high
Can we get much higher? So high
Can we get much higher? So high
Can we get much higher? So high

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Enough with the sentimental shit
I′m 'bout to blow, nigga keep the instrumental lit
Suited in a Pendleton, I came to unclog these rap blogs
Congrats, hats off to Fashawn
Stupid, I thought I told you motherfuckers
Thought the speculation was over when it wasn′t
In the kitchen like, you don't know what's in the oven?

I mean the shit is fucking disgusting
How these lollipops suck your ass, posing like they got it locked
Never go outside the box rappers, try me not
I′m off a OZ of GCK
Moving at a slow speed for three days
Don′t ever try and come to the West

Without an extra lung, a big gun or a vest


Allow me to introduce you to your death
I present AK-47F

Yo, I'd like to welcome y′all to Sunday School, man
Have a seat, put your bags down
Take notes, nigga

They sampling my style, fashion and loot
I hear it in they rhymes too, perhaps just a few
Rappers need to get rules, the took 'em back to school
Nigga rewrite the rules or be just another mule, nigga

A prisoner of perfection, every sentence I′m sketching
Like a window or an exit, escape your mental
I become a prisoner of perception, roll up some indo
Listen for a second, it's just info
And this just in, I got a 4-11 on a 1-87
Somebody laying in heaven
Niggas ain′t playing in CA, a lot of shit happening
Thinking 'bout packing and moving to Minneapolis

We from a culture of capitalists
Cutthroats and savages, the utmost embarrassing
Fuck, a nigga might move out of the country
If you want me I'll probably be in Somalia sitting comfortably


I wanna go to Africa, I ain′t been there yet
We should hit Cape Town, word
You know what I′m saying? Johannesburg
Word, you ain't been this high before
Sunday School, man