im a man with plan the possibility of power in my hands infinite loop timemachine cenered misery relive my worst times as a leader in an dinisty a vikin bearded bradead slumped and sunked sat on warthrone piss me off and il give you a permanent blood noise an Anglo saxon worrior dressed in wolf clothes warped the unity of universal credibility but i keep up the ability to be a hillbilly in dungeries dangerous in a dungeon master of defence i charge rent and killing boys in the name of the third degree now im the sea swimming with the sharks feeding my opinions to higher arks like inhibition spark hibernate until the winter has passed lightning up fires to keep my fortress grate halls of Valhalla warmed up keep fanning the flame and my legions of vikins of kin brothers who be watching for oders but my creed of kinsmen dying so poorer when compared countries are at war there is no order only a game of thrones spiked talisman next to the brimstone swords and shields and spears left to develop a defence to defend home i charge into battle with a eyepatch like oden decapitate your severd head il be holding because my sword is the lighting swinging at troops battlefield cuts and wounds left open oozeing and wooseing my feet hurting from the shoes that im filling and sick and tired of leading my troops and not winning but one day il be the king of ascard grinning in this story im not the hero im the villian vikin rapper get you dancing to the hit and miss bombfire drums see the sun on the horizon signs that the battle is done exit the battlefield knowing and living growning old telling loki and thor my sons what ive done tell em about what it took to get it done to submit and surpass number one general of the rapgame killing cunts here my flow feel it like a smack to your guts and i don't want to be the leader that makes sense i wanna be the leader lifts crowns and surpasses death oh yes im not impressed imprinted in pictures hanging off my bed rest where wife lays with nice breasts perky ass chest