[Richard The Lionheart]
I'm Richard I from the Third Crusade
That only leaves room for you in second place
The chivalrous swinger of the sword and mace
And I'll kill you when I spit like a pit full of snakes
I'm the number one Dick, rising up to make you fell smal
My battering ram slams through you shild wall
I'll announce at the next of your Things
That I'm chomping through your family like boneless wings
Of course you got avenged by a kid with no bones
Your own story ended worse than Game of Thrones
Your son killed you ex, your ex killed your wife
I'm the Lion King, man but that's a messed up circle of life
Half-ass head tats can't be condoned
It's like you raided the face of Post Malone
I'm scared of no foe I'm backed by the Trinity
I'll conquer you on my day off like you were Sicily

[Ragnar Lodbrok]
Threatening to conquer Ragnar is bold
For a king who got whacked by a ten year old
I'll sacrifice you to Odin while drinking horns of mead
Good thing you hold the red cross
cause that's who you're going to need
You built you army by raising English taxes
I raised my army taxing English asses with my axes
And who are you to talk about the circle of life?
Your old lady can't fell the love of any night
Your only son was illegitimate you heired on the side
I'll twist your spine like the end of the Plantagenet line
I'm just a warrior, I'm not a linguist
But I think The King of England
should probably speak English
You took Acre and Jaffa like a piece of cake
But never attacked Jerusalem for Christ's sake
Your saw the Holy Land but couldn't go all the way
We should call it the Crusade of Richard the First Base

[Richard The Lionheart]
Sail back North with you barbarian goons
Because I'm tearing down you legacy leaving it in runes
Your real self next to your legend disappoints
I'm see you shaking in your shaggy litlle pants like zoinks
Ha! Who invented the royal me? We
Who's the predominantly fictional Mc? Thee
You're a wannane, mon ami, kneel down and honor me
Richard coming through in the end like Sean Connery
The double-coronated blood and gore gourmet
You might have the axe but I make a body spray
Lionheart's the sobriquet but I strike like a cobra
If I wanted to fight loser Vikings I'd go to Minnesota

[Ragnar Lodbrok]
You want to fight me? Take of the thin shirt
I'll be wating in my birthday suit going berserk
Ding Dang Dong morning bells warn about me
ath the break of dawn
And I'm putting you to sleep like your brother John
Leaving monks in chunks on Northumbrian lawns
Cause I'm Alfather's spawn
You couldn't even beat a Salad in a fight
You're soft as Monty Python knights
You went from chainmail to chained up in jail
till mommy drained England to pay for you bail
But no King's Ransom will save you from these bars, son
I'm eating you alive like the gangrene you died from