It’s just ant sugar, man. Just like bits of sugar they give us to trick us to eat the poison. The machine, man, knows what we want, better than we do. Sugar, fat, drugs, porno videos, popcorn in the microwave, Prozac and People magazine. DVDs, SUVs, MP3s, XTC. It feeds us and we like leeches. Suck. Suck. Like velcro, the system is the hooks and we the loops.

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo … check it out. Guy’s walking his dog. See, he walks the dog, but all the time, the dog thinks he’s walking the man … Are we walking the computers or they walking us?

Check it out. Like the “revolution.” Wow, man. “I am ANTI the establishment. I am alternative.” Uh-huh. I’m into SONGS about guns and sex. Shit.

I remember the first time I got a tattoo, man. I was expressing myself. Just like those models in the ads, man. All those junkies in Vogue magazine.

Like I went into a bookstore and I bought a book. Was about revolution, real revolution. And what they do during a real revolution is, they kill people. Lots of people. That’s history, man.

Human beings, they be killing each other and they make piles of stuff. Trash. Possessions. Bodies. No other animal makes piles. Or kills itself.

The way we do, man. You know who Tamerlane was, man? He killed some folks. Made piles out of their skulls. Torquemada. Hannibal. Stalin. Hitler. All the great people in history that we remember killed shitloads of other people, threw ’em in piles. Lincoln, man, Abraham Lincoln. People died on his watch, big time.

I used to sky dive. I used to see how far I could fall before pulling the cord. I’d look down at all the people and they were just like little ants. All these little ants whizzing as fast as they can in their carcinogenic gas-powered go-carts.

The system looks down at us from far above.

(Upper-crust voice:)

Look at the little ants, the foolish little ants, working all day and night. We will have them hurry and scurry for us, because they have no brain, they are only ants. We will convince them that they have caused their own unhappiness, that if only they had more discipline, they would be happy. Fools! Hah-hah! Let’s sell them some more self-help books!

(Back to hip-hop voice:)

See, a few years ago, I’d be hanging out with my friends. And it would be like, “What’s on TV?” Nothing. “What’s in the movies?” Nothing. “Wanna eat some shit?” No. “Wanna smoke a dube?” No. Nothing, man. It got so there was nothing. Heroin. Nothing. Pierce my dick. Nothing. Then what? After nothing?

You say OK, here it comes another day in my life. Let’s see here, a little sex, a little exercise, a few cigarettes, maybe a frappuccino … now what? You know? NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS??