| I found a non-secure connection
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| Or a thousand
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| I’m routing attacks
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| Through an unsuspecting little shop
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| Seventy-five hundred miles away
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| I’m no part of any sleeper cell
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| I lurk happily on forums and bad code
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| I do it just for fun and out of boredom
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| Flip the kill switch to unleash an erasing virus
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| I’m a low-grade threat just fooling around
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| I put a red skeleton picture on your screen
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| I’ve got all your data, I’ve got all your secrets
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| Good luck, you can’t stop it, no way to protect it
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| I infect, I attack, I steal, I take, I disable
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| And I taught myself manuals are weapons to enable
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| The too-big-to-fails find their money funds exchanged
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| And the men in charge are totally enraged
|
| Epic poets of the future will write
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| The soul of the warrior must fight
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| Avenging every insult and slight
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| Down to his last megabyte
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| Helen who launched a thousand ships
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| Inspiring ego trips with microchips
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| Movie scripts with wetted lips
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| All worldly worth lies twixt two hips
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| As the sun lights your face in the morning
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| As my hacking loud tempests are storming
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| Your inbox will give you its warning
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| Of attacks from the suitor you’re scorning |