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The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Higher" by the artist "The-Dream"

In "Higher," The-Dream paints a picture of a luxurious and self-satisfied life filled with money, women, and drugs. The lyrical protagonist, successful and confident, enjoys the fruits of his labor, not hesitating to boast about his wealth and influence.

The first verse sets the tone for the entire track: The-Dream addresses a faceless girl, tempting her with his wealth and lifestyle. He describes his car, his charisma that attracts women and makes men envious.

The chorus, repeated throughout the song, emphasizes the hedonistic nature of the hero. He is obsessed with pleasure, and music, drugs, sex – all merge into one continuous high.

The second verse, performed by Pusha T, adds color to the portrait of luxury. He boasts about his expensive wardrobe, travels, and lavish gifts for numerous women. He is a "bad boy" with a lot of money who is used to getting whatever he wants.

Mase in the third verse continues the theme of wealth and success but adds a touch of self-irony. He compares himself to a drug lord, admits that he is accused of money laundering, but at the same time shows contempt for those who try to judge him.

The final verse by James Fauntleroy brings us back to the topic of drugs. He describes in detail the sensations of smoking marijuana, ending the song on a note of intoxication and euphoria.

Overall, "Higher" is a hymn to hedonism, glorifying material goods and pleasures.

[Verse 1: The-Dream]

Look at yo money,

Ooh, momma, this could be you

On the right side of this drop.

Ooh, momma, throw it in reverse,

I call that back it up and droppa.

Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby,

Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby,

Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby,

Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby,

Ooh, girl, I think that she like,

I got that shit that make ngas wan' fight,

I got that shit that make bitches act right,

Make bitches act out of spite, aite.

Ooh, momma, I got that bomb,

I got that shit make your ass go run,

My shit not make ngas get guns,

But the white girls say, ‘Where you get that cool beat from?'

[Chorus: The Dream]

She love it, she love it,

Every beat of the drum, she sprung.

She say, I make her wanna touch it.

She love it, she love it,

She make me wanna touch it.

I love it, I love it,

We buzzin', yeah!

Higher than a mothafucka,

Higher than a mothafucka,

Higher than a mothafucka, yeah!

[Verse 2: Pusha T]

Yeah, I've been known to chase ‘em,

Known to replace ‘em,

Shoe game outta this world, I outer space ‘em.

Known to have a hundred and one like Dalmatians,

Maybe if she special enough, I'll glass case her.

Get caught cheatin', and I gotta let you stick me up,

Let you shop till you drop as a pick-me-up.

Bergdorf bandit, Barney's for the burglary,

But these bands lift the whole store like Hercules.

Get raunchy in Givenchy, my palm reads

Passports, Pinot Noir in arm's reach.

Paddle shiftin', push-button, no car keys,

The pent houses are poolside with palm trees.

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Mase]

Uh, one-two, one-two, guess who back again?

Uh, Harlem in this what? Yeezy, let Manhattan in!

Get my mic right, turn my levels up,

Get the light right, turn my bezel up.

You either bounce on it, go ‘head throw your mouth on it,

So many Ghosts in my garage, they think my house haunted.

Long as my buckle say Hermès, the rumors I'm not concerned with,

They wanna garnish my earnings, before I send it, I burn it,

You know them people too convinced that my money's gettin' rinsed,

Her Lou-b's seven inch, they TMZ me through my tint.

I bumped into Loon, he like, ‘Well, as-salamu alaykum!'

You know, I ain't Muslim, my nga, I'm about my bacon.

The shot ngas takin', you'd think I'm rollin' ‘round with Reagan,

A Mexican landscapin' couldn't rake in what I'm makin'.

Think you blew me up with your bougie butt?

But you ain't slow me up, I'm on the charts, you move me up.

I'm like a drug overlord, my jewelry's overboard,

It's hard to believe Dollar-sign-E even know the Lord,

Already wrote it off, so just ignore the cost,

So when I'm rollin' off, I'm showin' off with no remorse.

Shamone!

[Chorus]

[Verse 4: James Fauntleroy]

Bitch, hold smoke longer,

Choke hold so strong, broke your armor.

Now you're wide open, right?

You ain't even smokin' right!

Bitch, hold the smoke,

Cough hope, Harpo,

Purple gotcha knocked out,

Now you know you're smokin' loud.

You're higher than a mothafucka,

High in this bitch, high as a mothafucka,

I'm high and this bitch fine as a mothafucka.

I'm high as a mothafucka,

I hear sirens, she dyin' in this mothafucka,

Moment of silence for this mothafucka.

I'm just higher than a mothafucka,

I'm higher than a mothafucka,

I'm higher than a motha.

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