Eminem Follow

Yeah, oh, oh, yeah, yeah, oh
I feel like dancing
I feel like dancing

I smell something in the air that's makin' me high
I said, I smell something in the air that's makin' me high

Okay, here we go, do re mi fa so, fa so la ti da so
Lyrical Rosco, give back the Tabasco
You motherfuckers must just not know the tic-tock song
Time to show you the most kick ass flow in the cosmos

Picasso with a pick ax, is a sick asshole
Tic tac toe frozen six pack, with exacto
Knives, stranglin' wives with big lasso
Few bags of the grass, zig zags, I'm with the Doc so

You know how that go, skull and the crossbones
This is poison, the boys and girls who do not know
You do not wanna try this at home, my lil' vato
This is neither the time nor the place to get macho

So crack a six pack, sit back with some nachos
Maybe some popcorn and watch the show and just rock slow
It's not what you expected nor what you thought so
About time that you wake the fuck up, smell the pot smoke

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me
Whatever's got into me I don't mind

Your dreams are getting' fulfilled, ooh, I'm literally getting' the chills
Spittin' at will, me and Dre have just finished splittin' a pill
You're submittin' to skill, sittin' still
I'm admittin', I'm beginnin' to feel like I don't think anyone's real

Faced with a dilemma, I can be Dalai Llama
And become a bin gramma, a step beyond a Jeffrey Dahmer
Please, don't upset me, mama, you lookin' sexy, mama
Don't know if it's the lala or the rum and Pepsi, mama

Don't want to end up inside my refrigerator freezer
Be used as extra toppin' the next time I make a pizza
How many people you know can name every serial killer
Who ever existed in a row?

Put 'em in chronological order beginning with Jack the Ripper
Name the time and place from the body, the bag, the zipper
Location of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped
The trunk that they were stuffed in, the model, the make, the plate

And which model, which lake they found her in
And how they attacked the victim
Say which murder weapon was used to do what and which one
Which knife and which gun, what kid, what wife and which nun?
Don't stop, I like this, it's fun, the fuckin' night's just begun

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me
Whatever's got into me I don't mind

When I'm behind a mic dynamite is what it's kinda like
You're stuck with the same stick that you're tryin' to light
Behind the boards is Dre, legends are made this way
Isn't it safe to say this is the way it should be?

Maybe you need some lyric syrup serum for your symptoms
Here's a dosage of the antidote, now you give him some
He can give her some, she can give them some
Get behind a Lynn drum, make up a beat and kill the sucka syndrome

You're spinnin' drama when it comes to lyrics and pennin' some
Startin' from scratch and then endin' up at the end enough
Capable of bringin' a Pulitzer, strong believe a bullet's a
Titanium, cranium that's full of surprises

When the smoke rises right before your very own eyes
You stare into your stereos high
Good evenin', this ain't even a weed thing
I ain't even smoke anything, I ain't even drink anything

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me
Whatever's gotten into me I don't mind

It must be the ganja, it's the marijuana
That's creepin' up on me while I'm so high
Maybe it's the Hindi that has gotten in me
Whatever's got into me I don't mind