This is a song about "Followers"

Emitted amidst uplifted insistent percent of inventive intentions

Demonic followers sitting in a circle of candles in every sessions

For leaders and followers to uparm their vision

Im controlling the air, like a gentry decision

Kiss a dick and lick it little slick rick followers, swallow,

Never tell em bend over i just make em’ take a bow

And louder than a microphone that's slightly near a lion's den

Rotten bodies piled up, goners or followers men

Got followers and i'm not even a leader!

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her