Resurrection

Tell me what I see is not a true realityBut a strange piece of quantum physics fantasyAnd if that's not the case then I can't help but laughAt where the music's going, heading for the pastStealing bits and parts like a musical FrankensteinA chorus here, a bass riff there, who wrote it? Never mindBend down and pray before the god of samplingMake yourself by stealing other people's fameResurrectionResurrectionClub mix, dance, rap, don't tell me it's real musicThere is no soul to the so-called songs they try to singSure there are a few exceptions to the old ruleThey only reinforce what it is I try to proveMaybe they are the true artists in their fieldIt's just too bad that they share their space with a bunch of queersWhile we're at it, let me please quickly point outThat glorifying racial violence is a stupid fucking thing to do, assholesLearn to put the past behind you, don't try to bring it backDon'tlet your toys sonfine you unrtil your brain goes slackNeed I remind you, you're doing nothing newYou think that they will sign you, good luck, you'll need it tooI'm only saying what's on my mind this point in timeDon't want to offend anyone unless they've narrow mindsInstead of stealing from the artist of an older ageCreating a brand new sound, a brand new scheme of thingsI'm sure that you can see my point of view if you really tryI'd like to see this generation build a thing that shinesStop digging up the bones of other people's artYou can make your own if you stop and really tryResurrectionResurrectionWhat the fuck's the matter with you?.