Werner Herzog

[Verse 1: Busdriver] How could you call yourself the best rapper You in a cover band that’s playing Sledgehammer In your cupped hands is pet hamster Your genitals are sitting on wet pampers Holdup while I test this red snapper Militant like a pledged Panther I hunt big name nigga, I collect antlers And you got bitch problems, breast cancer Hellfyre Club we the wrong set to slander We’ll make you eat a crepe filled with Chia pet dander And I always stay on the set with cameras I go Herzog, nigga you dead like Dirt Dog All you movie-making lames in the booty-shaking vein On the moving gravy train are left in excruciating pain Because I’m in the house, you be like “which house?” I make Witch-House up at your bitch’s house Wearing nothing but a Speedo and a pig snout Y’all must have pricks and ovums Jocking me like I’m Chris Nolan My scathing critique of your shit leaves your script molten Because you want to drive porches through the Waterloos Have a home like the Fortress of Solitude So on-set to snort shit through a hollow tube But at the end you’re just gorgeous piranha food [Verse 2: Open Mike Eagle] He's Herzog, I'm P.T. Anderson At your premiere I snuck 3-D cameras in I bootlegged your shit for the downtrodden Cause you got your film degree at a clown college You use brown polish, like a white racist And shoot titles in Sans Serif typefaces Take ten paces, and yell "Fire!" I nail you to a big board like Mel Kiper No secret, I'll tell you why I smell wiser I got a bunch of girls pregnant cause I sell diapers And I'm a god-damned genius The Marc Maron a dark-skinned art baron Smart like lucky kids who get born to smart parents Who feed them locally-grown farmer's market cart carrots I eat fair trade cheese and fart fairness [Hook] I...go...Werner...Herzog I...go...Werner...Herzog I...go...Herzog Which means I get large spread art cred smart heads are fed [Verse 3: Nocando] Skip the introduction, buddy I'm not mingling Hoes on my dick cause I look like John Singleton Cut like Tarantino with his big-ass machete Once I read my notebook, word to Nick Cassavetes Twelve frames, half a second, Clockwork, Stanley Kubrick A rap session I'll put my nose in, I can't be Buddhist I learned my lesson, I'm really a savvy student But dark like Tim Burton, and look fit like a thin person But I'm just a happy human Before I see a stupid rom-com with a nice chick I might get, the right grip, to set up a light rig Attach a GoPro to the po-po's nightstick And assault him with an icepick -- and ask him how he likes it Excuse me -- unhhh -- my swag sharted I feel like Shaft with a shag on shag carpet These rappers aren't factors they're actors with no SAG cards in They think they're the truth but they that gossip rag garbage Written shit or freestyle, homie I'm that murderous Remember me? I used to enter them rap tournaments Breaking niggas' spirits like a bag full of glass ornaments Well bitch it's time to eat now, show me where craft service is Thinking out loud like an introspective extrovert If I play the background I'm directing, not that extra work Bust that 16 but I decided to put in extra work To make them strippers drop it super mega-low and extra twerk Rappers say they don't hate, but most of 'em do I feed off it like Vigo in Ghostbusters 2 I can roll up your crew, or throat-fuck your boo Whatever transpires is so up to you Lights Camera Action The whip is fully covered so I might have to crash it Getting southpaw HJ's from a right-handed ratchet The airbag deploys The credits start to roll How anti-climactic ... Hellfyre