| Now back to the biz
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| Let’s analyse the hit song and shit
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| Duplicants get ready for a pop quiz
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| I’m a bad babysitter, got my boyfriend in your shower
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| I need 10,000 hits like this to make me rich, okay bitch
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| I need 10,000 hits like this to make me rich, okay bitch
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| Listen up, every duplicant go away on a retreat
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| Write me hit songs, don’t forget you can’t eat!
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| Smoke cigarettes and drink coffee, email me the copy
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| I thought I told you nobody on this motherfuckin' planet can stop me
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| I booked you all into the 40 Seasons Hotel
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| It better go well, think Pink, think Pharrell, gotta sell
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| Think Britney, Missy, I don’t if it’s shitty
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| You know who once won a Grammy, Ace of Base and Milli Vanilli
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| Make it snappy, and it better match me
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| Be as tight as my skin-tight Versace, super catchy
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| I’m so clever, my next endeavour is to create a new musical trend
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| Called «I can’t believe it’s music!», then you clones copy me
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| I’ll be the innovator and the copycat artists, it’s a brilliant monopoly
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| Do this properly, protect my intellectual property
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| Hairdresser, manicurist, plastic surgeon, get off of me!
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| Call my one thousand agents for lunch
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| So much to discuss, lots of numbers and abs to crunch
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| I was already on the charts once
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| And now I expect ten thousand new hit songs, go clones
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| I need 10,000 hits like this to make me rich, okay bitch
|
| I need 10,000 hits like this to make me rich, okay bitch
|
| I need 10,000 hits like this to make me rich, okay bitch
|
| I need 10,000 hits like this to make me rich, okay bitch
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| Yeah, go ahead, twenty thousand tits, go |