Letra de Napoleon vs Charlemagne - Epic Rap Battles of History

(Feat. Nice Peter, EpicLLOYD)

Epic Rap Battles of History!

Charlemagne

Versus

Napoleon

Begin!

Who's the Europe conquering king par excellence

Who fathered his own renaissance and gave birth to fonts?

It is I, Charles the Great son of pepin the Short

Torturin' this overblown war-horny bicorne-sporting Corsican

The Pope's eyes? Saved 'em! Holy Roman Empire? Established it

It lasted a thousand years until you pranced up and savaged it

Egypt, Haiti, Spain your campaigns are too elaborate

Your bubble of an empire popped like an ABBA hit

I strike the fear of God in every land I take

Leavin' pagans quakin' makin' em do the Charlem-shake

The bloody verdict of this battle has already been decided

Like the love between you and Joséphine it's one-sided

Oh, Charlemagne, you cringe Carolingian charlatan

I'm the genuine article military artisan

You're a clanky old suit of armor

I'll bombard the janky monarch of the Franks and the Lombards

Your joyous sword tore hordes asunder

But war's a bit more hardcore now that the years have four numbers

That is canister shot and you'll receive those balls

When I blast you with my 12-pounder Gribeauvals

Le Petit Corporal here to get my groove on

Even if I lose I come back and get my coup on

I'll subdue you brutally like a royalist in Toulon

I'm the smoothest French thing in grey since Poupon

Oh, that flow you can't quite rock it

That must be why you keep your hand like that, no pocket

You are nothing but a whiney little egotistic swine

Who got sunk by a Brit with a bullet in his spine

And your Russian debacle was even worse, you got beat by lice

You should've enlisted an elementary school nurse

People still place my name next to God Charlemagne

Now pretend I'm Moscow and retreat from these flames

I kept a vial of poison around my neck in case of capture

And I almost just drank it, you are that bad of a rapper

I'll outflank you with ease, your losses will be costly

Like the Alps in winter with your pregnant wife you shouldn't cross me

When I conquer I don't need a pope's help

I'll grip a diamond-dripped hilt and put your crown on myself

The only throne you belong on is the latrine

You might be King of the Franks but you can suck beans

Who won?

Who's next?

You decide!

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