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

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)

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)

Wakjąkága

Yo, if your parents hear you listening to this, they’re going to frown.
They’ll be like, “our babysitter Frontalot’s letting us down.”
In fact, I bet it’s around now that their ears perk up,
already poised to disengage the circuit.
Wakjąkága was not exactly a man.
More like the demiurge than a demigod, if you understand.
And if you don’t, let me just say he’s a bit of a fool:
sort of a jester, but also a simpleton too.
He wandered the forest in search of some food.
A couple duck carcasses (of which he approved),
dripping with fat, sizzle in his campfire.
Wakjąkága gets bored of cooking, gets tired,
gets comfy, warming his back at the hearth.
Though it’s pretty early, he’s not the only creature on the earth.
There’s foxes. They’d like a duck dinner too.
Brown Eye Detective Agency got interviewed.

Keep an eye out!
Wakjąkága‘s booty-butt
should’ve paid attention.

There were no other applicants. The booty’s on lookout.
Can only Po at interlopers, hard to guard the cook-out.
Wakjąkága woke up and he stretched,
reached for his dinner: nothing but bones left.
His booty was stone deaf to recrimination and censure.
One duty, shirked, leaving trust in contention.
And Wakjąkága, so stern with his underling,
stabbed it where you or I would wear underthings,
with a sharp stick that happened to be on fire,
as proper punishment for its failing to keep its eye out.
Satisfied with this discipline, he went about his way,
still with his tummy grumbling and dismayed.
Hope before it’s too late, he could find a tidbit.
What should he happen upon but an unattended
sizzling strip of the fat that he’d savored before?
He gobbled it and ambled along, imagining more.

O cornucopia! The world’s older brother here
keeps on discovering, discarded everywhere,
just what he’s looking for: the most delicious
fresh-cooked dishes. Seems a bit suspicious...
Someone just littering hot meat? Yo, hold up.
You’re walking in a circle, Wakjąkága!
Ought to check your backside where the gaping wound you made is.
Uh oh. Young ones, be careful how you say this:
his anus was trailing out guts in abundance and
upon himself is how he’d meted punishment.
Upon himself: also how he’d been dining. So,
took a couple handfuls of his booty up and tied it closed.
And that’s why part of your butt’s wrinkly.

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