Lyrics:
my name
They wanna nigga to run and get hung
high strung, so this pig can win the Cy-Young
I'ma hit this mothafucka a mile
In the batters box, high
said the last deal was 8
They told me if I went to trial and lost I would get life
I was so stressed out
I just started praying
I had some dust
fuckers stayin' mad
Bastard, I'm a Snow, just like what we writing in
I get high and ride dragons just to come home again
We in the stu', too high to even
mind where it's never gone before
And so like a mushroom in cow shit
And I'm taking it just to get the ultimate high, baby
The ultimate high, ohh
twenty-seven, don't you worry bout me
Bury me inside a pyramid, a coffin of kings
If I get to twenty-eight we gotta celebrate
And my mama just called, am I eating
on safety
Always on go
Put a hoe nigga 8 feet
I know I'ma blow
Wit the team
We only 8 deep
I been on my shit since a kid
I don't wanna split a nigga wig
mind where it's never gone before
And so like a mushroom in cow shit
And I'm taking it just to get the ultimate high, baby
The ultimate high, ohh
witnessing me blow up
Like seeing a tank of gas explode
And I'm, I'm high like a flight I'm sitting back of coach
By the window sipping Jack and Cokes
The price was like 8 digits, a long way, shit
Got the beachfront view, V 1-2
Cop you one, cop me one too
On the place, jet ski's parked by the lake
No
by a thief
His people just sit around
His children just cry
The king's mind is all confused
Just wonderin' why
The temple split in half
And scattered
[Archie Lee]
SwishaHouse bitch, I wreck shows and flows
Swng wide, frank does, and high cap on hoes
Bouts my peety, bouts lucci, all abouts my cash
I
in front of a good crowd?
Why do all of your close
Battles turn into 8 Mile?
Your palms be sweaty, knees weeks
Arms be heavy vomit on that sweater
Free them boys, free them boys forever
(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker up)
My lil' brother like eight now, see 10 Mile
Got
high that I can kiss the sky
(Up, up to the sky) yeah, yeah, Tical
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four
Three, two, murder one lyric at your
Then puts my hands on her waist
This is the mile high club
I bet you want you a taste dude
What do I know
I joined the mile high club
I tried to get some
need a couple grams
And they been talking outlandish
And they know I'm in high demand, and
They get jelly, we just jam to it
That new C8 a hundred grand
a humid, motionless mass
The crowds and the cameras
The cars full of spectators pass
Excitement so thick, you could cut it with a knife
Technology high
a humid, motionless mass
The crowds and the cameras
The cars full of spectators pass
Excitement so thick, you could cut it with a knife
Technology high
the high road
Fuck that, I'm finna hit back
'Til I run out of gun powder and split the scene
Hold the mic similar to pistol, squeeze
And I shoot from
me of tryna destroy
Let's rewind it to '89 when I was a boy on the east side of Detroit
Crossin' 8 Mile into Warren into hick territory
I'd like
at 11: 00 y'all was
Leavin' 6: 00 in the mornin'
Cause them underage bitches had to be
To school by 8: 00
My belt always a lil' loose
To get a handgun
fifty deep
But they be fuckin' cowards when they by they selves
You know who I'm talkin' about
(You know who I'm talkin' about)
That's right, you
a million, by hustlin since my adolescense
From crack dealin to rap villain, my new profession
Who wanna see me at eight deep, fuck 3D
You coward ass
can't go astray
Walking miles to get to you
Step by step you know its true
This spring we got a fling
We sing and let the old renew
Give your all to me,
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