Epic Rap Battles Of History Charlemagne Versus Napoleon Begin! [Charlemagne] 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 [Napoleon] 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 [Charlemagne] 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 [Napoleon] 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