EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HISTORY!
V FOR VENDETTA!
VERSUS!
THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!
BEGIN!
[V]
Remember remember the Fifth of November
And also this day I'm about to dismember
A lonely Phantom who lives in the sewer
From a boring French novel that's old and obscure
My mask stirs hearts; revolution creates
Yours barely covers your ugly ass face
I'm the symbol of hope, I rally masses together
You're only known because of Andrew Lloyd Webber
I had legions of followers and fans when I died
You had one protégé that left you high and dry
So come on Erik give me your best burn
But once you begin it's the Point of No Return
[The Phantom]
Remember, dear V, your fireworks display,
While I conduct shadows in an operatic way.
Your mask is mass-produced, a Guy Fawkes disguise—
I crafted a visage that brings terror to eyes.
You tout revolution, broad slogans and chants,
I ensnare a soprano with whispers, not rants.
Christine heard my music and trembled in fear,
Your grand finale? A bomb—my notes still ring clear!
You preach hope and freedom, your legend a spark,
But my stage is eternal; I compose in the dark.
So keep your vendetta—your cause may be just,
Yet I am the Phantom; all illusions combust.
[V]
Voila! In view your verse is verifiably weak
Your Opera rings verbose but puts audiences to sleep
Vindictive villain, your voice is a vexing refrain,
Thy Vacant vows of vengeance echo in vain!
Vaunted composer? Verily, I laugh,
Your vain vision veers to a vile epitaph.
Vengeful illusions vex your fleeting serenade,
Your vacant visage unveils a vicious masquerade.
Your vacuous verses can’t vie with my lore,
Victory’s mine—Viva la revolution, encore!
[The Phantom]
Ah, V, verbose vagabond, your vitriol’s clear,
Yet my melodies haunt souls year after year.
Your “V” tirades veil a vacuous quest,
While my haunting arias put hearts to the test.
Your revolution crumbled, its ashes dispersed,
My Opera lives on, its allure well-versed.
You lit up the skyline for one fleeting night,
I remain immortal, a maestro of fright.
So step from the shadows, and meet my command,
Your tricks are but candles—I hold the grandstand.
Your victory’s hollow; your mask’s just a charade,
The Phantom reigns supreme, in this lyrical parade!
WHO WON?
WHO'S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE!
EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HISTORY!
