Gordon Ramsay vs Julia Child (Explicit)

Gordon Ramsay vs Julia Child (Explicit) - Epic Rap Battles of History

Composed by：Mike Bettete/Lloyd Ahlquist/Peter Shukoff/Zach Sherwin/Dante Cimadamore

Epic rap battles of history

Gordon ramsay

Versus

Julia Child

Begin

And that's how you make a perfect risotto

Right Mrs Child welcome to the grown-ups' table

I've got exactly two minutes and you should be grateful

'Cause I'm in the f**king weeds with all these shows to pitch

I keep my ovens preheated and my pilots green-lit

I'm a seasoned skillet you're a pam-sprayed pan

I've got Michelin stars you're like the Michelin Man

I'm rolling in dough like beef Wellington from hollering

And I'm shitting on you like I'm wack flows intolerant

Oh isn't that a wonderful thing

A grumpy little chef who thinks he can bring

Enough stuff to justify getting rough

With the butter-loving queen of the bourguignon boeuf

I rock hard as concrete on top of these bomb beats

Been chopping the pommes frites since

You sucked on your mom's teats

I served America dutifully

And I sliced lard beautifully

I reigned supreme from shark repellent to charcuterie

Go on and 'cross your arms in that B-boy stance

And when it comes to haute cuisine

There's one F-word France

Here's a nice amuse-bouche

Take a poor abused youth

Set a thirty-year timer voila

Huge douche

You're a namby-pamby candy-assed pansy

Gordon Ramsay

You couldn't rap your way out of a pastry bag

Understand me

I laugh and create you berate and destroy

But fear my dear boy is less scrumptious than joy

I'm glad that you got that off your giant flabby chest

I'd call you a Donkey but you look more like Shrek

When the Iron Man chef busts a rhyme

I'll open up on you like a fine red wine

I'm a culinary innovator you're no creator

Regurgitating French plates like a glorified translator

I'm fresh you're past your expiration date

Alright f**k it blue team

Drop the bouillabaisse

Yes chef

I've seen your little show and it sure ain't pretty

One part big bird two parts Miss Piggy

You can't test me with your fatty recipes

Call your book mastering the art of heart disease

I mean it's rubbish yes chef look at page 40

Tell me who the f**k yes chef

Wants to learn to cook calf brains

You call these no chef

They're stale and soft

Now here take this jacket

Now give it back and f**k off

Oh please your defeat's guaranteed

Concede I've got this in the bag sous-vide ha

Michelin indeed you've done well for yourself

But as a person you couldn't get a star on Yelp

I could freeze a steak with those frosted tips

What's with that bitter taste

In every word from your lips

You scream at women but

The fits that you're pitching

Make you the pissiest b***h in the kitchen

I'll pat you on the head

Melt you and stick it to ya

Anything's good with enough butter boo-yah

Oh I'm so glad you spent this time with me

Now eat a dick bon appétit

Who won

Who's next

You decide

Epic rap battles of history