Digital Dirt

(Chorus)
 None of this digital [bad word]  I don’t want it, I don’t want it
 I don’t want to live with this, I don’t want it, I don’t want it

 (verse 1)
 yea, eh
 In-tel-tel-tel-tel-tel-tel…
 Intel chip, new processor, flip-phone
 Laptop, cable optic link (?), wi-fi zone
 Instant message me, I’ll hit you right back up
 Electromagnetic waves got me jacked up
 Can’t think straight and my phone keep buzzin
 The satellites ain’t right, it’s fuzzy my cousin
 Ride around we go, I’m so techno
 I can download the globe in a second micro
 Digital for real, she took a day half the pill
 Now the baby’s get aborted we sit back and chill
 On your man, out of sync, life flash by
 See me stand up and think, planet earth cry
 Too satiated, I’m over stimulated
 There’s too many times now the mind is deflated
 Wanna feed the need, walk around like a mummy
 They say my belly full but my belly still hungry

 (Chorus)

 (verse 2)
 your cell phone’s causing you to drive like an [bad word]  to me that’s not a good reason to almost die in a crash
 plus I used to have numbers stashed away in my brain
 now it’s all so convenient, can’t remember a thing
 but you could take a picture trick, and view it like you got it
 at some my space 5 mega pixels that’s a lot fast
 so you’re a rapper or a model now
 so I don’t have the options, stack up, back up
 get your bottle (?) down, down ,down, down
 before you strut your stuff for the net to see
 lack of human interaction’s a bad recipe
 you’re just a profile,
 glitch corrected (?), doped out
 on drugs and the food
 they keep you subdued
 so theres remedies like silicon extremities
 virtual , robotic pets, ghost writers keep your pens at ease
 when fools catch wind of these, brain freeze,
 it ain’t easy being analog whatever that means
 (chorus)

 (verse 3)
 The last poet said they had a god complex
 Wanna be the architects of reality avexed (?)
 Billions on a space station in the projects
 Baby Mamas feed seeds from their welfare checks
 On the internet, children sit through the 
 FBI monitor, message intercept
 (I’m so high-tech)
 Got the latest and the greatest
 Once you outdated than you just can’t fade us
 Gotta get my botox, weed (?) and viagara
 Just to get my rocks off, what happened to my stamina
 So artificial you can call me R2
 D2, see-through, silicon fool

 So when you see us on our typewriters, sending letters snail-mail
 Rubbing sticks for fire, covered wagons, that’s the tell-tale
 sign of contentment
 peace and enlightenment
 Amp (?) cut that pro tunes (?) off, I’m finished writing it