In-Con Sequential Art

Raise High the Standard

Really? Hah-hah. Oh, you're such a fuck.
"Oooh, I can't be nerdcore! Puts me into a box! Limits my possibilities! I'm just an artist!"

Fake-ass, fake tit, Lee press-on genre
Pretending to be that real shit, you're more like Contra 2
Shitty Honda coupe, like a shoe
From Payless Source pretending to be Jimmy Choo
Shit; You're Jew for Jesus; really just a Christian
Say you hate Yeezus but it's Kanye in the kitchen
You're mixing up beaters with some ham on the side
Like Schultz is better than Schaffer; you livin' that lie
Living with pride, but all the DNA's the same
Liar of a lion simply playing that jungle game
You bungle, lame, pretending to be the king
Think you're fighting that good fight, Little Mac? You're Glass Joe in the ring
Your patterns are easy, you cross-stich bitch
Switch tricks from comics to sick rich kicks
Lick the thick dick of the underground
Prick givin' the geek the blues with that runaround

So whatcha-whatcha rebellin' against this time?
Shit, I'm sick of the self-interest bitch crimes
Which lines exactly do you feel that you're crossing?
You too backpack for slack raps? You hustlin' and flossin'?
Stop tossin' out excuses; if you're nerdy, you own it
And folks will label when they're able, whether'r not you condone it
So tone it down, Che, and take a look at your peers
Because your shit sounds awful geeky to their pointy Vulcan ears
"I'm not against nerdcore, per se" you say and say but what you're sayin'
Is that you think you're above it; your shit's serious, you ain't playin'
You're an artist, so fuck the amateurs, right? Get off your pedestal
Pontificating, patronizing prick, suck on my genitals
You ain't better than we; at least we know we belong
You make the same damn songs then whine and cry that we're wrong
Lick my schlong; the tribe has spoken, and you're blooded and vetted
So it's nerdcore for life until your rap career's beheaded

Dracula or Blackula -- still a blood sucker
Dead rhymes, kiss all those wrong assess; pucker up, fucker
While your audience withers
Shit, nobody buys your new persona and you're bitter
Babysitter may be a better adventure for ya
Retail sales fail rep suits you, not a Porsche 
Or a Lambo; listen Lando, it's not the genre's fault you're shit
No matter what you call yourself, you're a flaccid dick

I can't believe we're even conversing when we should be reversing
All the self-loathing bloated tits of shame which you're nursing
From, like bubble gum that shit don't nourish
Gotta own up to your soul if you expect your art to flourish
If a movement wants you with 'em, don't you wanna rally 'round?
And if the fans all feel your rhythm, you gonna throw that on the ground?
It means fuck all and less what you wanna call your mumblings
If they're calling you nerdcore, at least they're calling you something 

Nobody knows you, think you'll call an audible?
You're just fuckin' white noise; shit, you're barely audible
Think you hear me now?  You're deaf and guileless
Building a better image? FUcking compile this
File that bullshit next your Hot Topic receipts
Pretend you're a baller when you're really a geek
Act serious and hard, you're really a stale peep
Sweet. Be a dick. You don't deserve a rhyme

 Is our namby-pamby fambly gonna ruin your cred?
That packa horrorcore-in' whores is fuckin' screwin' your head
Nerd devotion stays in motion, quit your ruein'; instead,
Make dope-ass hits with no shits given what you do in your bed
You want their money and their fandom, but you're swindlin' & rookin'
Like a moped, you can't ride that dick 'less nobody's lookin'
Oh you're above that shit? On a hustle speedin' past
The lower class? Roll on, Autobitch, we don't need your ass

Look, real talk; you don't really get to decide what your music is. You can only decide what you try to make it, and if people are calling it nerdcore, then that's... that's pretty much what it is.