Testo: Zion I & The Grouch. Heroes In The City Of Dope. Digital Dirt.

(Chorus)
None of this digital shit, 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 ass
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 sex, 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 sex
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Once you outdated than you just can?t fade us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

(Thanks to Nick for these lyrics)