[Edgar Wright Verse 1]
Wes, you'll get fired eventually and you maybe should
Let Edgar teach you how to Wright for the greater good
Oh, I missed the memo, excuse me
Didn't know we had to dress like the pretentious chodes you put in your movies
Dude, I'll smack the side of your face and before you bitch and scream
I'll smack the other side, satisify that symmetry
Your films are proof that quirky doesn't equal good, you hipster freak
There are more actors than just Lightning McQueen to pick between
I'd think you're drunk with the shit you pitch for a theater screen
But you look seventeen, Sergeant Angel, check this kid's I.D
Such a scrawny cunt, I don't need to flow no more
I'll go to the Winchester and wait for you to blow over
[Wes Anderson Verse 1]
Eddie is very dead set on the sentiment that he is better than me
Sure, when I imagine academy I think repetitive parody cheese
Sheesh, we're meant to be rapping in battle, not wrapping the camera, so why are you making a scene?
Now, I'll demonstrate how I tend to slay the Boggis, Bunce, and beat
Every moment in my portfolio lies a photo devised so totally ideal
Over designed with every particular detail I soaked in my style
I'm keeping emotion and dialogue both in my mind, you open the page and jot a one liner
Thinking you're goated with writing and end up with Last Night in So-so
No wife? That's not shocking
This director couldn't shoot himself a date, he's cock-blocking
You trip over your words so damn much, it's disturbing
Though observing your early work, you're accustomed to slurring
Wes, you'll get fired eventually and you maybe should
Let Edgar teach you how to Wright for the greater good
Oh, I missed the memo, excuse me
Didn't know we had to dress like the pretentious chodes you put in your movies
Dude, I'll smack the side of your face and before you bitch and scream
I'll smack the other side, satisify that symmetry
Your films are proof that quirky doesn't equal good, you hipster freak
There are more actors than just Lightning McQueen to pick between
I'd think you're drunk with the shit you pitch for a theater screen
But you look seventeen, Sergeant Angel, check this kid's I.D
Such a scrawny cunt, I don't need to flow no more
I'll go to the Winchester and wait for you to blow over
[Wes Anderson Verse 1]
Eddie is very dead set on the sentiment that he is better than me
Sure, when I imagine academy I think repetitive parody cheese
Sheesh, we're meant to be rapping in battle, not wrapping the camera, so why are you making a scene?
Now, I'll demonstrate how I tend to slay the Boggis, Bunce, and beat
Every moment in my portfolio lies a photo devised so totally ideal
Over designed with every particular detail I soaked in my style
I'm keeping emotion and dialogue both in my mind, you open the page and jot a one liner
Thinking you're goated with writing and end up with Last Night in So-so
No wife? That's not shocking
This director couldn't shoot himself a date, he's cock-blocking
You trip over your words so damn much, it's disturbing
Though observing your early work, you're accustomed to slurring
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