Freshy Kanal, LittleFlecks - Paul Atreides vs. Amleth lyrics

Odin, give me someone with more
Meat on his bones not a mother's boy made to
Stay reading at home
He's not a lone wolf, he's a sheep left alone
Looks like he'd need to wear a
Booster seat on his throne
Reading from your library's a fight
That needs no weapons
Even your own writer died
Before he finished seven
And your new film made it to
Page five before it ended
You murdered cinema, now I am it's vengeance!
Are you the best your daddy is sending?
His seed is week and decrepit
It seems he's only descended
With his descendants
And I dream of what the prophecy meant
When it said of future and death
With my uncle's head clearly severed
You had wet dreams of a desert!
I have seen your fate, Thats So Raven King
I'd cure you of your allergy
But, I'm afraid it stings
No longer will you cough at
The product of father's fortune
I got your nose
Now where will you put your snorkel?

I came here to laugh at your family
But this is saddening
No soap, all opera, The Caveman Kardashians
Your ma and uncle got married
And you wanna join them?
I'd rather be a mama's boy
Than be mama's boyfriend! His odor is sour
Come take the coldest shower
Not throw a tantrum because he
Thought Odin owed him power
The Northman's legacy was well known
It all went southward
When Shakespeare took his whole story
And told it louder
What do you know about reading? I don't
Think you've ever seen a book
You chopped down your family tree
To retrieve some kindlewood
So build a bonfire
But, you cannot dance around this
I'll bash your thick skull in
There's your crowning

Meet me at the gates of Hel
And I will build your tomb
Unsheath ye arms when I
Pierce straight through
Your PS2 shield ain't blue!
Knight blade stay hilted, my fists will do
To break that pinky used to
Lift that filthy silver spoon
Your performance is lifeless
Detached like a Draugr's joints
Was Timmy forced to act at gom jabbar point?
Whack that wax seal back
Onto your dad's finger
And don't be someone you're not
Lord of the dead ringer

You started murdering crowds
Now you're a curse to your town
I don't need a treatise to judge
The worth of your house
Why would I listen to a single
Fokking word from your mouth?
When all I need is The Voice
To have you turning around
You will crumble, you will die on your knees
You will stop trying to bring your sandworm
To the surface in these minus degrees
You will end yourself and
Advance your plot quicker
And stop playing ball games with your mom
You shall Knattleikr!
I'd define living in shame as finding
The dick who pillaged and
Raided the village you came from
To willingly be his slave
Couldn't kill him and waited cuz
You pitied the lady who
Blew on your Gjallarhorn, tried
To build a relation
But even that ship has sailed