All Of Front’s Lyrics


A Little Bit Broad

A Very Unlikely Occurrence

Better At Rapping

Bizarro Genius Baby

Black Box



Captains Of Industry

Charisma Potion

Charity Case

Chisel Down

Colonel, Panic!

Crime Spree

Critical Hit

Devil In The Attic


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

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


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



Small Data

Sockington 1M Theme

Socks On


Special Delivery

Speed Queen

Spoiler Alert

Start Over

Stoop Sale


The Council Of Loathing

This Old Man

Tongue-Clucking Grammarian

TP Factory Tour

Twenty-Six Hundred

Two Dreamers

Victorian Space Prostitute



Which MC Was That?

Yellow Lasers

You Got Asperger's

Your Friend Wil

Zero Day


Guest Verses

Borken Telephone (by Rock, Paper, Cynic)

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)

This Old Man

Keep getting older and hairier
on my neck, back and derriere,
but not atop the pate.
Dear DNA, let’s negotiate!
I’ll trade the fading vision, you could have that back,
plus this 30-year-old-man belly’s kinda wack.
My hearing is nearing deafness and I wheeze.
Yo, please save me from the wrist hurt disease!
It’s infeasible that these, a full list of ailments,
should do anything but accrue. I’ll fail ten
times out of ten to age in reverse like Mork.
Is there anything sadder than a dork
for whom the new hotness is not just inaccessible,
it’s grumbled against? You kids, reduce your decibels!
Don’t make me come over there and shake my cane.
(It’s that rapper from the AARP and he’s insane!)

This old man, he rhymed once.
He put up some valiant fronts.
With a wick-wack bitter lack of youthfulness & charm,
this old man kept rhyming on.

Joints creaking while I squeak around the stage,
hella grandmothers telling me I ought to act my age.
Deranged already, I don’t got no brain medicine.
If we were running out of food on a boat, I’d get jettisoned
or eaten. I’m unsweetened.
Don’t tell me that I got the shortest straw; I’m not a cretin,
just a little senile and gassy and slow.
But I bet I’m very salty! And I could still row.
Let’s gobble on that infant. Infants are useless
(also very soft, which is good, ‘cause I’m toothless).
Come on kids, you want to get rescued or what?
Don’t mumble all amongst yourselves. Speak up!
(I lost my earhorn the other day on the bus.)
You would think by the way you whippersnappers make a fuss
that I said something crazy, profound or obscene.
Wait, where’d the ocean go? Where have you taken me?

This old man, he rhymed twice.
He found this would not suffice.
With a wick-wack bitter lack of youthfulness & vim,
this old man was dour and grim.

Now Frontalot’s shopping for the top of the hill.
Should have bought a burial plot soon as I got ill,
but I foolishly thought that I could put it off;
now I’m ghoulishly fraught with a [cough cough cough].
Soft in the head, hard in the disposition:
how’d I earn this intractable attrition
of the vigor that I figured would be mine for life?
Is there no upside? Well, the rhymes are rife!
Every year I’m alive, add to my vocabulary.
Going to do it till I’m staring at the ceiling in the mortuary.
Plus I’m probably wise by now
and could do all the things old people talk about,
like: count pills; argue bills at diners;
get a little tiny funky car and be a Shriner;
go to the haberdasher so I could look dapper;
get stroke and forget I’m too old to be a rapper.

This old man, he rhymed thrice.
He spoke a thin gruel of lies.
With a wick-wack bitter lack of youthfulness & spunk,
this old man’s rhymes was bunk.

This old man, he rhymed lots;
rhymed till he grew liver spots.
With a wick-wack bitter lack of youthfulness & cheer,
why he rhymed remains unclear.

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