| Claiming the, city is mine, prettiest dime
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| I don’t like the way that people defending Kelly in public
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| Wide spoken on the, quote it
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| Similar, get it
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| tatted
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| Below the shoulders spelling, «Jean Grae»
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| Inside picket fences and larger houses imitating
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| My life of living is a constant struggle
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| Juggle with empty hands
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| Troubled and worried about the future plans
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| Hoping God’s looking out of high windows
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| Keep climbing, keep falling back
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| Sip a little Cognac
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| holding pennies inside a wallet
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| Instead of dollars holler if you feel it
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| The quest for dollar, an achievement
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| Bleed until my final hour, believe it
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| This hunger never quit, it only goes deeper
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| Get high, try to get my burn on like a ton of reefer
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| I’m a fiend
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| Stay on my mind, it’s all green
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| You don’t even respect the history, or bother to notice
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| Street in effect credit, somebody’s child is claimed dead, but fuck it
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| He used it in a single, most of you using less bars and more hooks
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| Juggling titties, sell a song
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| And crooks and criminals in Entourage but nobody’s wrong, come off it
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| I’ve seen a puff and plenty, in case the bass is friendly
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| Can never kill, I’m ruthless only for the mic to
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| You can keep your cases for shit, I’m chasing this dream
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| Running a thousand feet in the sand, envisioning cream
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| Replacing rock, hitting brick walls, door shut
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| Take my picture blow it up, post it on promo
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| Fighting it solo, to rock the boat
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| Alone in it, praying like Charlie for golden tickets
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| I’m sick of women diminished by bitches claiming they kick it
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| Written strictly from the heart, skin will never be seen
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| Not for green
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| Niggas dying
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| Higher than kites, blood on they flyest clothes
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| Lying hoes, repping women, stripping, neglecting they children
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| Deconstruct an education as quick as they could be gaining elevation
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| But it’s always easy to dumb it, you want it you got it
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| A nation of instant gratification
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| Either microwaving or speeding to some fast
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| Scheming to reaching, American dreaming is catching up
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| I mean you walking home and might get hit by a sniper
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| Life is always unappreciated, especially us
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| It could be genocide for certain 'less we strengthen it up
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| Awake and take control and be the colors we blush
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| Creation never meant to get as far as a bus
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| Forsaken, all the splendor rendered us blind
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| Thinking the role of recline
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| Watch Green Mile to open my mind
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| And take me to other places with Michael Duncan and Tom, gotta feel me
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| Too much of something’s never good, keep it only for nights
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| dream, state of mind’s all green |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song High , by - Jean Grae. Song from the album The Bootleg of the Bootleg, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп