Alba s touto skladbou:
In Defense Of The Genre,
I'm sinking yet I'll stride
A satchel filled with files
The secrets of the tribe
The cameras follow me for miles
Born a slave in 1984,
I discovered that my life is just a record they performed
A maze where I was placed
Tell me what you think of this one
Tell me what you think of this one
'Cause now I've sold you out
Now that there's no doubt
Now I've called you out
Now I've sold you out
They strapped me to the roof
and cut right through me
Diggin' through my wounds
I watched them helplessly and shook
Where are my pills, where is my former lover?
I've been betrayed by everyone I know who's blown my feeble cover
So tell me what you think of this one
Tell me what you think of this gun
Now I've sold you out
Now that there's no doubt
Now I've called you out
Now I've sold you out
'Cause the truth is this:
I finally know what they conceived so long ago
A baby rat for them to test,
The poison's on a rubber breast
For me to learn; dependence on the shackles here
But now they're gone
This place I live in hyper speed
I shall not live; I shall not breathe again
This is fuckin' ecstasy
This is fuckin' leprosy
It's like they're fuckin' testin' me
I'm in fuckin' ecstasy
