Follow Me (Feat. Buck 65 & Sage Francis)

All shovellers of earth making maneuvers with manure
Move over and prove your love
You should remove your gloves and galoshes, use caution
Please no pushin' and shovin' unless you got a cushion
Here's the solution to all of this noise pollution
And fascination concerning fashion
Let's start slashin' and burnin'
Let's start teachin' a lesson or even preachin' a sermon
To each of the people that's facin' termination
Time's a-wastin' away on the initial inklings
Officially it's no time for wishful thinking
The Missin Link is back in action lookin' for satisfaction
Actually I'm optimistic, I'm also acrobatic
Addicted to contradiction, a victim of an overdose
Livin' in a dollhouse, almost comatose
Only the Holy Ghost is good enough to be my guest
All of the rest of you slowpokes can eat my dust
As we've discussed, you'll be given permission
To wreck the percussion and the mic mechanism
All prisoners and pioneers have risen
And are cryin' tears and playin' with crayons
And tryin' to stay on top all day non-stop
And droppin' jewelry for hooligans
And organ donors goin' to boarding school
According to the gatekeeper and late sleepers
Callin' all heavyweights and students
This way to the future, follow along

The secretive type, I like to creep in the night
But I speak under my breath to be polite (I'm talkin' about you)
Unconspicuous, keep killing that sweet feeling
The mystique's building
I only speak to the freakishly chic children
For some cheap thrill thing I'll be willing
To make purchases on my credit card
As long as it's of discrete billing
I am expected to get murdered by bombs
So I open up my mailbox with surgical tongs
Rubbing antibacterial paste on my virginal palms
Then it gets a little less complex
And Oedipus words from my moms
Heard of the song by the guy, what's his face
Who says those things, I love that song
I think that it's called Ambiguity
And the music be handed to you and me
In the form of animal cruelty
I'm heading to the laboratory to free some mice today
Heading back to the lab to prove
The skin color of Jesus Christ is grey
Impressionable minds have nothing even nice to say
Your brain is putty in my hands, my man
It seems just like some clay
See I'm strange, I'll take my time
Rearrange your frame of mind
You wanna be with Sage
Wait in line with the rest of them grapevine swingin' idiots
You ain't bustin' no grape and makin' wine
You ain't duplicatin' my rhymin'
I'm older and dirtier than that bastard baby Jesus is
Masturbating penises in a alleyway where she just is
Thinkin' that's enough and it is
Asking, "Can I live?"
Is the way these asinine kids imply that they are
Dead already they are, get in your car
Release the brakes, put it in neutral
I'mma steer you wrong
This way to the future, follow along