Battle of the Bards (feat. Thomas Taufan & Matthew Predny) [From "1 For All"]
Oh what's that sound? It's a dying cat!
No wait it's a talentless Bardic twat
Just a has-been hack who sings from his ass
He's a total embarrassment to the Bardic class
Antrius will never be any itty-bitty bit as good as me
You think you're a god, please!
You're a codpiece
Now suck this D--
Natural
My licks are sick, my wit is quick, my fingering is tight
You're barely our of preschool you hairless little sprite
I'm not the Bard you think you know
I'm awesome and you stink you know
The world can hear my song reverberating!
We better wrap this up
Your mum and dad are waiting
At my house!
As if you weren't a loser to begin with
Look at the flumph-huggers you walked in with
Oh-oh my word!
It's a half-elf, half-turd
And a hinky, stinky, pinky, scroat
Like a pig polymorphed into a goat
Friends like those are last resorts
They're a drain, they're a pain, they're a stain on your shorts
They're the awful smell that you can't quite place
They're a big loud wet hot fart in your face
Cheat all you want but this is how art sounds
While you were boning up on your magic fart sounds
I was getting practical, practicing tactical timing
With every single syntax I maximize actual rhyming!
I'm a card, I go hard on lute, flutes, and guitars
I'm the star they regard as the Bard spittin' bars
Antrius will never be any itty-bitty bit as good as he
He thinks he's a god, please!
He is a codpiece
He cannot compete with this G--
Flat
You've not won, son
I'm not done, son
I've got friends and you've got none, son!
Time to sack up
I've got back-up!
With friendship you get your wish
With friendship I'll gut you like a fish!
Friendship means you get your turn
Friendship helps your enemies burn
Friendship is the food on your plate
It's the knife in the throat of the people that you hate
It's the white hot rage that helps you win the war
It's the brains on the walls and the blood on the floor
We'll destroy you!
And that's what friends are for!
I stole this flute from someone else
I don't know how to dance
Life's not what I wanted
There's a sock inside my pants
I got kicked out of college and my folks think I'm a creep
I wear a wig. I porked a pig
I cry myself to sleep
Friendship's a vessel that grows ever grander
But then again every ship needs a commander
Friendship is found in my smoldering stare
And the pick of my lute, and the flick of my hair
Friendship is the take you do for kicks
It's the back-up singers that are lower in the mix
It's the post-credits scene. It's the afterword
It's the two in the back that are ever-slightly blurred
It's the subtle underscore
But I'm who they adore!
No wait it's a talentless Bardic twat
Just a has-been hack who sings from his ass
He's a total embarrassment to the Bardic class
Antrius will never be any itty-bitty bit as good as me
You think you're a god, please!
You're a codpiece
Now suck this D--
Natural
My licks are sick, my wit is quick, my fingering is tight
You're barely our of preschool you hairless little sprite
I'm not the Bard you think you know
I'm awesome and you stink you know
The world can hear my song reverberating!
We better wrap this up
Your mum and dad are waiting
At my house!
As if you weren't a loser to begin with
Look at the flumph-huggers you walked in with
Oh-oh my word!
It's a half-elf, half-turd
And a hinky, stinky, pinky, scroat
Like a pig polymorphed into a goat
Friends like those are last resorts
They're a drain, they're a pain, they're a stain on your shorts
They're the awful smell that you can't quite place
They're a big loud wet hot fart in your face
Cheat all you want but this is how art sounds
While you were boning up on your magic fart sounds
I was getting practical, practicing tactical timing
With every single syntax I maximize actual rhyming!
I'm a card, I go hard on lute, flutes, and guitars
I'm the star they regard as the Bard spittin' bars
Antrius will never be any itty-bitty bit as good as he
He thinks he's a god, please!
He is a codpiece
He cannot compete with this G--
Flat
You've not won, son
I'm not done, son
I've got friends and you've got none, son!
Time to sack up
I've got back-up!
With friendship you get your wish
With friendship I'll gut you like a fish!
Friendship means you get your turn
Friendship helps your enemies burn
Friendship is the food on your plate
It's the knife in the throat of the people that you hate
It's the white hot rage that helps you win the war
It's the brains on the walls and the blood on the floor
We'll destroy you!
And that's what friends are for!
I stole this flute from someone else
I don't know how to dance
Life's not what I wanted
There's a sock inside my pants
I got kicked out of college and my folks think I'm a creep
I wear a wig. I porked a pig
I cry myself to sleep
Friendship's a vessel that grows ever grander
But then again every ship needs a commander
Friendship is found in my smoldering stare
And the pick of my lute, and the flick of my hair
Friendship is the take you do for kicks
It's the back-up singers that are lower in the mix
It's the post-credits scene. It's the afterword
It's the two in the back that are ever-slightly blurred
It's the subtle underscore
But I'm who they adore!
Credits
Writer(s): Jake Nielsen, Ned Mcphie
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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