YTCracker on the microphone Check it, check it My name is ytcracker and my story is a simple one I'll tell what was online back when splatters son The only kids who ran game Hung out in private room, lame Oh, how wish it was the same Back in '97 I was just a little maverick Came on from IRC into a private room called #havoc From there I met a few cats, that said they liked to hack And they called it punting, and I called it whack But in every method, was a method still I had a lot of phish but no AOL bill Sabotage had us happy, but I was sadly lacking A TCP connection to keep on cracking So I stole some ELN's and wrote them down with a pin For every phish I had, I got another ten And here I sit with my oh-so-happy grin Things will never be the same as they were again Back when young there was a guy named Skate He didn't write sudo's and he didn't write fate (X) Regardless of what he didn't do, he made us grab our dreams Because money had our pockets busting at the seams When you loaded sub-spam in a private room A million others loaded and they sang the same tune I'm an icon of spam, I spam for cash Seeing so much green you think it was an episode of M*A*S*H Back then you could spam all you wanted "f** you AOL", to spammers, we taunted There was no rate limits and no gay goodbyes A fat wad of cash by your bedside But now things have changed, its hard to make skrill It's hard to make a dollar, let alone make a mill People always saying p**n is a sin Things will never be the same as they were again Seems like only days ago we was cracking strings Making guides and hosts and all those AOL things Restricted was the word, gagging lamers getting curved Disco swerved on overheard for sure If you took your sh**-talking too far, fool I just loaded up a forum on the star tool I played text screens, Lawson's getting reamed With the ToS requests that I beam To they box, couldn't take shots from the German cops Always double-you, always resetting you You always run on high-g when I bypa** SecurID Go Chris, grab you real by the balls, see Back then, no one talk sh** AO-hoes dropped the AO-flows and my co*k ticks I wouldn't give an AO-ho sh** in real life On the phone you good for one night (one night) Now chat commands rule the mouse land And all the fat macros went straight into the garbage can I got fans, songs to Eminem's Stan Fame is to me what rice is to Japan I've been here since today I'll never go away I swing a big dick like I was Luther Lufay I'm the one I am and I'm anti on your weapon spray People used to go on icks just to parlay Used to brag about the ints I had Just to see if it would make you mad But now I brag about all the cheese I got Educators the set homey, never get caught What homey what?