The Death Of The Superstar

What are you duplicants up to

You're not supposed to have any imagination!

Time for the vet vacation, heavy sedation

My machine, what is this crazy contraption

You need to be smacked in

If it exists, the negotiater will have it hacked

Yes? Come in, CC2003

Do you need a refill of DNA from me?

No, I come fatally

Me and the ladies have had enough of me, I mean of you

And your Tyrannosaurus tyrannical ways

Fanatical plays for fans and fame

Here comes the rain and nobody will reign

And no one will know the difference

You taught me well, you goin' to hell, whatever that means

And I don't wanna be different

I don't wanna be the same but better

And now I will terminate you Concetta

(You dare to utter my real name?)

It's all the same, this is your end game

You remember that machine that us duplicants sang of?

That can make you into anything you wanted to be

Well bitch it does exist

I took it back in history

Time travelled, and unravelled the mystery of all of our misery

It seems in 2005 you were a nobody

Oh ok, a sort of somebody

Ahead of your time? Well, some of the time

And with the super fancy MRI

You downloaded the contents of your brain and eyes

Knowing the future you in 2080 would materialise

And I went back in time, and tampered with that MRI scan

This was never part of the plan

But in about thirty-five seconds you will cease being a Superstar

And instead become one of your own biggest fans

Who goes insane because after you cease being a Superstar

This fan will have nothing to live vicariously through

The premis-precarious true, I'm probably confusing all of you

Does it make sense, or don't get it sense

It's just my artistic license

(Listen duplicant 2003, I'm not really following)

(I mean you need to simplify or clarify)

(This record, nobody's gonna buy it if you make me die)

(I mean, I'm the main AARRRGHHH)