In-Con Sequential Art
Monday
Apr202015

Goldeneye [VR]

This collab was originally intended as part of an EP we were doing with VR (way back when he was still Vanilla Rice), and we performed it on stage once before the entire concept was scrapped. Still, the lyrics survive; the lyrics always survive.

Death*Star struttin’ wit’ a bounce in they step  
But I’m the bouncer in this battle and I’m trouncing your rep
Killin' illest of flows with a spirit of steel
I’m a shook-up martini, y’all’re dolla menu meals
Hey Cosplay, don’t embarrass yourself
That PP7 popgun ain’t touchin’ my health!
You wanna live and let die, just try, cuz I’m invincible
Like Boris Grishenko I’mma spike you on principle

I’m a big live talker, words cutting and racist
FPS Front Runner, Nerd MC, and a bassist
Beat your face so black and blue people wonder what your race is
What’s my rank?  How many killz?  That’s a need to know basis
Yellow buttons match your yellow spine, killin’ your kind
Take you down in the game, take your mom from behind
Prefer my guns like my cougars, DD44
From Russia with love; ice you in this cold war

Yo Bond, Junk Bond!, call you 00-nuthin'
Think your rhymes are the bomb? The shit you pack's a McGuffin
Say we McMuffins to martinis? You got egg on your face
Not fit to carry my ammo in this here army base
I got a License to Kill; you got some rice in your grill
Quoth Wesley Snipes, “Some motherfuckers are always tryin’ to ice skate uphill”
We get pussy galore, you get oddjobs from Jaws
We’ll go home and fuck the prom queen, you just die for your cause

Golden Gun? Never pull it, I’mma catch you without
Golden shower of bullets when I catch yo ass out
You pests best invest in vests for your chests
This contest my conquest, now who’s better than blessed?

Lotta talk, lotta braggin’ bout the kills you’ve been baggin’
Fully fragged like a n00b, back to matriarchal shagging
I’ve got Plenty o’Tool, you’re just a Smallbone
Secret agent man musk, you’re a double-o-clone

Cap you 64 times, slap my 'nades in yo chest,
Fap my nads in yo face, best accept I’m the best 

Put my gunny where your mouth is, see you wondering just how this
Player 1 just up and won, you've been outdone, outcome was doubtless
I've run countless victories, like symphonies the notes are many
On your knees, my expertise made me the man for Moneypenny

Spawn-camping bro?  3P that ain’t right
Nerdcore chaplain just got read his last rites

You catch a bullet in the air ducts each time you draw a breath
Don't even need a side arm, I can bitch-slap you to death
When I shoot you in the temple, that shit's a double entendre
Cuz you got capped in the pyramid by a renegade contra

I’m James Bond and you’re Austin Powers
Pushing chips into the pot while you’re pushin’ up flowers
Ski jumps from a helicopter, cards over conflicts
Rather get Goodhead, roam the red light district

Villains of the Day? Y’all are low-tier mooks
I’m 006 with the Sean Bean looks
Your shit is weak, your game’s like your flow
I’m a double-O agent, y’all are DK mode
I’m the Jaws of Def son, and it’s Everything or Nothing
I’mma stay Onatopp, suckas never gonna touch me
Reppin' old school shooter, pussies go home
Can’t nobody help you in Kim Jong Ill’s Own Zone

I'm MI6, you're MIA, I'm special force, you're special ed
I'm 00, you're double dribble, walking tall, you're walking dead
I'm a superspy, and though I die, you'll die another day
Because this world's just not enough until I take you out my way

Blood spilt our reputations in the classic competition
Where the single player mission was victorious position
Putting visions of submission disturbs our dispositions
So decisions to transition to turn tables as tacticians

Popped ‘em caps in yo asses as I’m poppin' my collar
Single-hand killa, didn’t even need armor
Death*Star dominated until I innovated
Annihilated, get it straight, this won’t abate ‘til I’m sated