| Holed up in this dingy makeshift apartment
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| In the basement of the barcade in the darkness
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| Cabling is running off in every direction
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| And a rack of electronics manage every connection
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| Lights blinking computers thinking I’m tinkering
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| Living like the archetypal Internet kingpin
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| Traffic on the scanners been shallow so I’m a shadow
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| And I gotta get my weapons ready prep 'em for battle
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| Load em with ammo get 'em dangerous
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| Payloads with my codes worms viruses I get 'em contagious
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| And I fill 'em like a danish with the sweetness
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| Fingers on the keyboard typing showing my 'leetness
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| I can beat this behemoth of a system with ease
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| If I put one of my programs on their directories
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| Should be a breeze when I break in cooking the bacon
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| No mistaking Neals no longer forsaken
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| Hit em with a system failed
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| Attacking their system while I’m out of jail
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| Show them a banana for scale
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| And get em slipping on the peel when they’re hot on my trail
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| See me hitting every open port
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| Cuz im banging on their system while I’m staying out of the court
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| Collecting all their data for sport
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| So that I can build the world a report
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| Run that mainframe administrator game plan
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| I’m gonna play a game of numbers like I’m rain man
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| Slaying every agent rocking suits and Ray Bans
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| Staying all up in the darkness like a spray tan
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| Once I penetrate perimeters
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| Work my way up through the system begin turning up the temperatures
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| From agents to the senators I copy their expenditures
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| Im targeting the Syndicate and targeting their messengers
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| Then expose unequivocally this not the little league
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| This be on that 1930s Italy — no accountability
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| And there can be no counting on civility
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| So those of us that care must make it our responsibility
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| To disrupt delete destroy readily
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| While your boy Neals is sounding the reveille
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| And if I ever wind up paying the penalty
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| I’m proud of every one of my felonies |