G: FRANK:

Oh Johnny, poor Johnny—so tragic, so stiff,
Your whole life’s a drama, but you can't land a riff.
You're tearing me apart? Please, don't be absurd,
I drop more heat in one strut than your whole damn third.

You mumble through scenes like you’re half in a daze,
While I’m serving up looks that ignite the gaze.
You’re soft, you're slow, your sex life's a myth—
Lisa faked more moans than you wrote scripts.

I was born to be wild, you were born to be memed,
A cult hero, sure—but I run the dream.
You got one room, baby, I’ve got a whole castle,
I warp space and time while you trip on your tassel.

So go throw your football, cry ‘bout betrayal,
I seduce galaxies—you're still losing in retail.
This ain't just a bite, it's a transylvanian feast,
Now back to your spoons, boy—I'm the beast from the East.