Harlem Shakes Follow

[Ooh, ooh, ooh ...]

Up from the basement to my best friend's farm
Where we'll work so hard, we can do no harm

We'll till the land and duck our debts
Underneath soft sun, chewing Nicorette

This will be a better year
This will be a better year

Make a little money, take a lot of shit
Feel real bad, then get over it

This will be a better year

Oh I keep pushing boulders
I stay game till sun'll shake my shoulders
Oh, I keep feeling older
I stay game, stay game, stay game

The East Coast kids, man, we just don't know
Singing wait, wait, stop, drop me, go, go, go
But I'm taken by the hand to a blue pay phone
We can break blue laws with our skin and bones

And now I'm back in the city, I'm counting frick frick frick
Heard of milk great things, speaking soft and thick
He said, "If life gives you lemons, then thus god bade.
So put a little bit of bitter in your pink lemonade"

I'm sick of thee sheep, I'm sick of thou shepherd
Sick of dressing like a human when I'm feeling like a leopard
I'm sick of slow rock, I'm sick of quick quips
Sick of holding on to nothing when I just want to hold your hips

This will be a better year
This will be a better year

Make a little money, take a lot of shit
Feel real bad, then get over it

This will be a better year

Oh I keep pushing boulders
I stay game till sun'll shake my shoulders
Oh I keep feeling older
I stay game, stay game, stay game

[Nah, nah, nah...}