| Hmm, very poignant
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| And now I point to the teacher and the classroom
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| And our wild tale commences
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| Hello everyone, welcome to ancient speaking class
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| You must speak, that’s what I’m teaching
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| If you’re going to telepath you’re wasting my time so don’t spaz
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| Hey I heard that! |
| Who just thought their teacher has a big ass
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| Don’t think nasty things like that when everyone here can telepath
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| Well this is fun, I know it’s difficult without tongues
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| But you’re young, still have lots of time to sunscreen under one of the suns
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| Now who wants to start, will it be you Intel Inside, or you Just Do It
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| Perhaps Got Milk wants to begin, oh, Coke Is It, stand don’t sit
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| Hit it, ba-da-ba-ba-ba, I’m lovin' it, you begin your report
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| Don’t use your ?, use your rusty, a little dusty, mouth and larynx
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| Right where you used to put a sandwich, see if we can manage
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| But we’re gonna need a beat, in order for you to handle it
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| Uh, I’m teaching you in rhyme
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| Since archaeologists found only Shakespeare and B.I.G.'s «Ready To Die»
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| When time and age was counted, measured, money was pleasure
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| Babies branded out the ad campaigns forever
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| The old world was confused
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| Attaching themselves to the biblical by the umbilical
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| Ironically so much like the amoeba they sprung from, the evolution was syphical
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| But I get ahead of myself, or is that behind myself
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| Perhaps Coke Is It wants to do her report first, I’m asking
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| But remember kids, no telepathing
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| My, um, um, ancient speaking report
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| Is on my great-to-the-50th-power grandmother whose name was Superstar
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| I am the descendant of a duplicant
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| A cycophant from a cloning plant
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| Right, uh, the year of her was 2080
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| Understandably illusive since we don’t count time anymore maybe
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| It’s a bit hazy, but Superstar was crazy
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| An entertainer back when there was entertainment, pleasure for payment
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| So that everybody would stop their complainin'
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| She was very very bad, and I don’t mean bad meaning good
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| I’ll explain how bad Superstar was if I could
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| In those strange days each human
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| Was allowed one exact clone or duplicant as they called them
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| To do his bidding, his drinking, his pigging
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| His cigging, or his unpleasant slash moral thinking
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| One could do it at any age
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| And as the originals change, the duplicant would rearrange
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| But our derranged Superstar was thinking
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| Why just one duplicant, when she could have a troupe of them, mmhmm
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| Why settle for one when she could make thousands of bad girl clones
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| To get a better job done (well what was she like when she was young?)
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| She dreamed of being a celebrity just like everyone
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| It was 2005, a strange time to be alive
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| She knew if she couldn’t be famous in her time
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| She would be one day in 2080
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| So she found a super computer MRI baby (wow!)
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| That would preserve her mind until the world was ready to comply
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| I ain’t gonna lie
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| Not only does she become famous, she becomes the only famous person alive
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| Listen to her plot, playin' with her friends when she was only nine
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| (What an insane mind!) yeah, thank God it’s not mine |