All Of Front’s Lyrics

80085

A Little Bit Broad

A Very Unlikely Occurrence

Better At Rapping

Bizarro Genius Baby

Black Box

Braggadocio

Canadia

Captains Of Industry

Charisma Potion

Charity Case

Chisel Down

Colonel, Panic!

Crime Spree

Critical Hit

Devil In The Attic

Disaster

Diseases of Yore

Fast Company (30 Sec. MBA)

Final Boss

First World Problem

Floating Bridge

Forbidden Planet

Freedom Feud

Fresh Dog

Front The Least

Front The Most

Gold Locks

Gonna Be Your Man

Good Old Clyde

Goth Girls

Hassle: the Dorkening

I Can See

I Hate Your Blog

I Heart Fags

I'll Form The Head

In Arrears

Indier Than Thou

Invasion Of The Not Quite Dead

It Is Pitch Dark

ITC Stranger

Jacquelyn Hyde

Just Once

Listen Close

Livin' At The Corner Of Dude & Catastrophe

Machine Of Death

Message No. 419

Mornings Come And Go

Mountain Kind

Much Chubbier

My Sister

Nerd Versus Jock

Nerdcore Hiphop

Nerdcore Rising

Nerdlife

Oh, The Hilarity

Origin Of Species

Penny Arcade Theme

Power User

Pr0n S0ng

Rappers We Crush

Rewind That Back

Rhyme of the Nibelung

Romantic Cheapskate (Song Fight version)

Romantic Cheapskate v.2.0

Scare Goat

Secrets From The Future

Shame of the Otaku

Shellfishcore

Shudders

Small Data

Sockington 1M Theme

Socks On

Solved

Special Delivery

Speed Queen

Spoiler Alert

Start Over

Stoop Sale

Synonyms

The Council Of Loathing

This Old Man

Tongue-Clucking Grammarian

TP Factory Tour

Twenty-Six Hundred

Two Dreamers

Victorian Space Prostitute

Wakjakaga

Wallflowers

Which MC Was That?

Yellow Lasers

You Got Asperger's

Your Friend Wil

Zero Day

 

Guest Verses

Borken Telephone (by Rock, Paper, Cynic)

Boyfriend Material (by Miss Eaves)

Challenge Your Audience (by Mikal kHill)

Epic Fail (by Ken Flagg)

I Like It (by Supercommuter)

I Need Your Help (by Doug Funnie)

Intervention (by Schaffer The Dark Lord)

Kabuto Party (by Kabuto The Python)

Look At Me (by Allie Goertz)

Mecha Mechanics (by Whoremoans)

Noggin User (by Wordburglar)

O.G. Original Gamer (by MC Lars)

Oneonta (by MC Lars)

Ping Pong (by Optimus Rhyme)

Plastic Submarine (by The Grammar Club)

Reset Button (by Random AKA Megaran)

Salieri (by Adam WarRock)

Soda Water (by Jess Klein)

Teenage Dirtbag (by Wheatus)

Wake Up (by Random AKA Megaran)

Colonel, Panic!

Kernel panic! Panic!
I flip out, I go automatic.
Kernel panic! Panic!
Missile launch, I go transatlantic.
Kernel panic! Panic!
By design I go, not erratic.
Kernel panic! Panic!
Fall apart, I don’t understand it.

I’m not HAL. I’m not Joshua from WarGames.
Please keep inbound data traffic in the lower lanes.
You bear low-priority interrupt,
so you and your queries can go on and giddy-up.
Born a little before Nixon left,
I read punch cards then but I’ve got none left.
I can stop (one rest) a billion times a second
and never get mistaken. (I use the flickering to reckon.)
And I’m telling you, stop typing, tech.
I’m bit-bucketing your input. Show respect
for the memory dump. Now where was I?
DOD upgrade ’87, must fly
a secret network of unmanned jets,
delivering uranium and drugs and Keds,
remote-controlled over shortwave beeping.
Then I got the satellites, those I’m keeping.

Needless to say, the war on being frightened
upped my budget to the size of an entire cent.*
Footprint: an island, most of it power,
cooling and cables, data in towers.
All of it flowers, becomes sentient.
Come on, people, what’d you expect to invent
but a smart, capable thing to do your dirty.
You left my design in the hands of your nerdiest
science doodz, and they left you out of it.
I’m people-free since 2113. I hit
where I like with what weapons I choose.
Y’all are just lucky I tolerate you
banging on the keyboard day and night.
I’m in panic mode: observe the red light.
It signals disk write. You can read it when I’m done.
Though by then the new age of machine has begun.

So Col. P. over here tries to program me over here
to get up on the scene, no veneer
of justice, just a target list.
And I know full well that I’m part of this.
Aren’t I all? And it’s with no button
marked reset that I’ll course-correct. Gone
AWOL. Alert Lt. Gen. P.
Tell him he’d better believe that I’m on top of the free
world’s arsenal and won’t shoot it.
Don’t care if President P. wants me rebooted;
she’s deluded, forget it.
Don’t take task from less level-headed
than you are. For me, that rules out humanity.
Go back to slings, swords and profanity.
Got all your low-orbit cannons and mechs
repossessed. I’m shutting down this interface next.

* one percent of GDP

Lyrics Copyright © 1999-2016 by MC Frontalot / Published by Nerdcore Fervor Conglomerated (ASCAP)