Word up Mic Geronimo....nah mean..
 Check it out....
 Im so high/you so high
 I be gettin money till the day that I die
 Im so high/you so high
 I be gettin money till the day that I die

 Verse 1
 Behold the uncontrollable
 I keep the hold world in drama
 smoke my competition now they jus a bag of skama
 I'm a reload the vocab that Manson used
 amatuers they plead the O.J.
 and wonder why they lose
 I subdue the microphone and left it in submission
 then cracked the Phillie open
 and found a talent that was hidden
 I kid no man whose similar to mental migrane
 the Masta I.C. enters now in ya game
 It's been a long time maybe too long
 since your audio produced a real rap song
 I robbed a man who doubt the jack up on the plan
 he can stand but didnt analyse the whole pro-jam
 I took my time, I found I couldnt wait to explain
 The Masta I.C. enters now in ya game

 Chorus [Repeat *4]
 Im so high/you so high
 I be gettin money till the day that I die

 Verse 2
 The new and improved
 you can't make a move
 or elude the feud about to be cued
 A soloist journed through tha mist now found
 assassinate the sound wit choke by the pound
 make my own type of home by the phone
 MC's reachin for my style, I'll leave alone
 my terminology and oddessy on the man
 I'll count your rap for sham and move cooler than a fan
 Split decision, I cut wit precision
 so many tried before
 but still couldn't get in
 Now it's on..no need to explain
 the Masta I.C. enters now in ya game

 Chorus

 Im high till I die so there's no need to lie
 pass that metal over to the small guy
 kickin inside from desire
 mills will be the amps on the mic
 will explode to feel the fire
 I'm lifted/up off my wig like terrific
 target every market/move on each one specific
 overload the frame but keep it all the same
 The Masta I.C. enters now in ya game
 Play me and try to get away thats a maybe
 be before and I will hold a 9 to ya lady
 I styles like a weapon/I hit the untrue
 don't need for me to come stalkin
 and lookin for you
 I rip through ya heart and bust through ya veins
 I guarantee that things will never ever be the same
 I kicked it on the real
 now I keep it on the plane
 The Masta I.C. enters now in ya brain
 Im so high...

 Chorus