Nerdcore Rising - MC Frontalot

Nerdcore could rise up

It could get elevated

Nerdcore could rise up

It could get elevated

Nerdcore used to be just a made-up word

MCs shied away from belief, rest assured

They sleep hard no longer, we deliver the hits

That give the kids with the spectacles spectacular fits

I seen one nerd foam at the mouth in his glee

It was me, in the mirror, rhyming, brushing my teeth

And now the heezy we’s off don’t babble 300 baud

I get no error while compiling my rhyme The slipshod

Rap stylings of the hip kids continue to vex;

They get sex, money, power, but their jams are like flecks

Of sea foam against the great reef of my boredom

I seen them trying to act cool;

ignored them

Scored some geeked out beats and a mic

Some jugglers I kick it with don’t even know I rap — it’s alright

For soon the whole nerdcore will congregate

In culmination of the monkey going acaudate

The nerdcore could rise up, it could get elevated

Oh, and wouldn’t all of those tough rappers hate it

If the nerdcore rose up and got elevated?

We consider the possibleness of this not overstated

We put our styles in the blender and the tape on our spectacles

We compile the assembler;

we’d each make a respectable

Egon Spengler;

your despicable, heckling, snide remarks make it

All the more delectable to mark a Jeckyl & Hyde departure from the

Larger norm or previous status quo, the clever dicks

Like us apply the baddest flow to limericks, and that is no mere

Rhetoric.

We don’t just wreck shop, we mop the shop floor

With rappers who romanticize their third eyes when we’ve got four

Each, and we exceed your reach, we’re world wide

Webslingers with the combined military might of the Girl Guides

Dead ringers for the lone gunmen, or maybe Jonathan, Andrew and

Warren from Season Six of BtVS, we’re geniuses and we’re devious

We’re seen as fresh on the BBS where we write graf in ascii files

With nasty styles and blinking blocks

This ain’t your father’s Lincoln Logs!

The Frontalot ownz j00, and Stephen Hawking r0x0rs

We’re not even talking solely to cats with argyle in their sock drawers

Our styles got the top score spot, yours did not, sorry!

Stick to the shockwave games, lickin' shots at the top

Forty!

I made my own Doom .wads, dickwad

My own sprites and .mus files, I stayed home nights…

Nerd: when you say it you best say it with awe

‘cause I’m the type of nerd that will bust your jaw

A nerdcore player, I’ve paid my dues

Got lowered suspension and chromed out shoes

Hear ye hear ye, in case you ain’t heard

20-aught-5 be the year of the nerd

Nerdcore’s gonna be crazy large

And we the N.I.C.

bitch, the Nerds In Charge

We bust more rhymes than Theodor Geisel did

Got more game than a 2600

For punk MCs who playa-hate

We got one word: EXTERMINATE!

Just a matter of time before we’re household names

So you best suck up now before fortune and fame

Put our asses out of reach of your quivering lips

As we ride to the top on a nerdcore tip

And I know that possibleness is not a cromulent word;

Every syllable injected is intended to be the one you heard

(an absurd juxtaposition of mission and goal)

Frontalot: about to roll

His diploma up tight and smoke it

Nerdcore’s about to sit there unless you poke it

You want to prod it?

See if it’ll kick?

While the smart kids calculate the hip-hop shit?

Got a vast network of subversives & criminals

Who sit in front the screens, all heedless of ridicule

These days, the complexion cleared up but the rhyming remains

Still ain’t nobody knows my name

And I think the same thought with great regularity:

That I’m the best MC that I can bear to be

And I’m scared to be either doper or dorkier

Bound for the high road even if it looks forkier…