| I’ve suffered cold nights, |
| Discovered old shrines |
| Dug in gold mines, |
| Won untold fights, |
| Knocked back whole pints of mulled wine |
| Endeavored to climb and weather the heights |
| 'Til every dragon soul’s mine, |
| Solved the civil war that split the soil, |
| Like a fault line, |
| But I’m getting bored |
| Of being in the borders |
| Of Skyrim for the whole time, |
| So hold tight as we all ride into Solstheim, |
| I’m the bold type |
| Like the lines inside the black books |
| Open it up and it grabs and sucks you in |
| So take a last look at whatever you stepped in |
| When treading ahead in this general direction |
| Better get protection |
| Cause the whole town’s |
| Gone down with a fungal infection, |
| A fuming human Thu’uming at the top of my head, Shouting |
| From Raven Rock all the way to the top of the Red Mountain |
| I can rap with incredible force twice as fast as ever before, |
| My legacy, oddysey, elegy, prophecy, levelled it up |
| To incredible rocket speed |
| So you better be paying a bit of attention |
| Cause every day I’m penning my name ahead of the game, |
| And getting insanely better at saying bloody everything, |
| A miracle of lyrical ascension |
| By the Nine what an entrance! |
| By the time you’ve tried that rhyme |
| Man, I’ll be lining for my pension, |
| And Miraak, Hes Dragonborn but he lacks these badass horns |
| And can he spit a record of a syllable a millisecond |
| I really don’t reckon he can at all! |