The OutroThe Ill Spoken

[Intro: [?] & Beedie]
Yeah, what up, B—
More The Ill Spoken, How High (Yo)
Still [?]
Yo, what up, Blaze? (Can we get Yung Brody?)
What up, Pittsburgh? What up, everybody? You [?] ([?])
Gotta play this shit on repeat, muhfuckers
Start this shit over
Oh, we ain't done yet, yo (Sweet James, [?])
Yo, light yo' blunts up, muhfuckers (Check it, yo, [?])

[Verse 1: Beedie]
[?] since I came (Uh-huh)
The games and the chains are sentencin' me to stay
Them other fools lame, they sentences mean the same (Chyeah)
I rain over pain, it's the genеsis of my name
A new beginning with storiеs that's truly written, it's me (Uh-huh)
I'm here to tell you the glory and who be winnin'
This more to me than you [?] to my wisdom
I make decisions, livin' disorderly with my vision (Ayo, look)
I had it all, but part of me had to listen (What?)
'Cause ignorance is bliss, and I can feel my fists blistering
And I've been holdin' back this shit since my christening
I eat MC's whole (What?), then I swish 'em like Listerine (Bitch)
So check my history, I'm back and I'm better
This is a family affair, me and Mac is forever
You should know, we grind snow or shine, no matter the weather (Uh-huh)
Money is an inspiration, never slack when cheddar (Nah)
Yeah, so I'ma get up in the game when it falls
All-time, hall of fame, put my name on the wall (There it is)
And keep 'em comin' in this shit 'til we famous and all (What?)
It's like I never wear a rubber 'cause I came in the broad
Hustle hard gets the ring, that's what I'm sayin' to y'all
Passion runnin' through my veins, man, I play 'til I fall
Pussy bitches gettin' brain in the hall, that's how it go down
These blood-red roses overflowin', let me slow down (Haha, yeah)

[Interlude: Mac Miller & Beedie]
That's right, Beedie (Yeah, that's right, Mac, tell 'em what's good, man)
Ayo, for one last time (Yeah, man, it ain't over yet though)
Put out ya motherfuckin' blunts (Haha, yeah, I know they high by now, right?)
In about two minutes, start the CD over, you know what I'm sayin'?
(How High: The Mixtape, motherfuckers)
Diggz and Rated R (That's right)
Good lookin' out for this whole thing
Big Will (No Sleep), The Ill Spoken, East End Empire
(Yeah, let's keep it goin' on this shit, man)
For one last time, yo, look (Tell 'em what it is, son)

[Verse 2; Mac Miller]
See, it's Mac and it's Beedie at the back of the CD (Yup)
My stomach aches, filled up from all these rappers they feed me (Ha)
And on behalf of me and Beedie, thanks for blessin' the CD (Yup)
It's Dr. Evil and Mini-Me, hip-hop completes me (Haha)
At first, all these cats was laughin' like, "He-he" (Ha)
"Look at Malcolm callin' himself Easy Mac" (Easy Mac)
Got news for ya dudes, see, I ain't no cheesy snack
It run through my veins, please relax and bring it back (Bring it back)
[?] MTV Raps, you MTV Jams
You can get ya ass [?] when I slam, no hands
On the pad and I just let that shit write itself (Write itself)
See, I'm hungry and my peoples in this fight for wealth (Fight for wealth)
I'm a ninja rap spitter, you's a white belt (White belt)
Master Splinter [?] see, I write well (Write well)
I roll L's, lay back, play tracks and new songs
Aim high in this life, can't help but do wrong (Damn)
And if I didn't mention Beedie, he's my people (Yep)
Together to the top, see, I need a equal (Equal)
How High 2? Well, everybody need a sequel
Spttin' tracks like we feedin' all these fiends with a needle (Here)
See, sugar rappers don't seem to be equal
I throw you on a plate, proceed to eat you like a beef stew
You see-through, broccoli and pea soup
I'm flowin' like streams do (Yup)
So tell ya people to re-group (Peace)

[Outro: [?]]
That's how the fuck it's goin' down, How High: The Mixtape
Rated R, Diggz, best in the business, The Ill Spoken
[?] the street professor, y'all already know how we does it
[?].com [?].com [?].com
That's how the fuck it is, we 'bout to wrap this shit up
Like a blunt, hahaha
How High: The Mixtape, Rated R, Diggz
Ill Spoken, Beedie, Easy Mac
Will, hahaha
647-210-7251, hit me up
[?] Pittsburgh, [?] Jersey
MySpace.com/TheIllSpoken