[Verse 1: Amleth (The Northman)]
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 needs 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'd finish seven!
And your new film made it to page five before it ended!
You murdered cinеma; now I AM ITS VENGEANCE!
Are you the best your Daddy is sеnding? His seed is weak 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 cleanly severed; you had wet dreams of a desert!
I have seen your fate: That's So Raven king
I'd help you with 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?

[Verse 2: Paul Atreides (Dune)]
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's sour; go take the coldest shower
Not throw a tantrum cause he thought that 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 receive some kindlewood
So build a bonfire, but you cannot dance around this:
I'll bash your thick skull in. There's your crowning!
[Verse 3: Amleth (The Northman)]
Meet me at the gates of Hel, and I will build your tomb!
Unsheath ye arms, and when I pierce straight through, your PS2 shield ain't blue!
Knight blade stays hilted; my fists will do
To break that pinky used to lift your 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!

[Verse 4: Paul Atreides (Dune)]
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 fucking 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, 'cause you pitied the lady
Who blew on your Gjallarhorn and tried to build a relation, but even that ship has sailed!