Luyện nghe bài hát Gordon Ramsay vs Julia Child

EPIC RAP OF HISTORY!
RAMSAY!
VERSUS!
CHILD!
BEGIN!

[Gordon
And that's how you a perfect risotto
Right, Mrs. Child, welcome to the grown-ups'
I've got exactly two minutes and you should be
Cause I'm in the fucking weeds with all these to pitch
I keep my preheated and my pilots green-lit
I'm a seasoned skillet, you're a pan
I've got Michelin stars, like the Michelin Man
I'm rolling in dough, Beef Wellington from hollering
And I'm shitting on you like I'm flows intolerant

Child]
Oh, isn't that a thing?
A grumpy chef who thinks he can bring
Enough stuff to justify getting
With the butter-loving queen of the boeuf
I rock hard as concrete on top of these beats
Been chopping the pommes frites since you sucked on your mom's
I America dutifully, and I sliced lard beautifully
I reigned supreme from shark repellent to
Go on and your arms in that b-boy stance
And it comes to haute cuisine, there's one F-word: France
Here's a amuse-bouche, take a poor abused youth
Set a thirty-year timer, voila! douche!
You're a namby-pamby candy-assed pansy, Gordon
You couldn't rap way out of a pastry bag, understand me?
I laugh and create, you and destroy
But fear, my dear boy, is less scrumptious joy

[Gordon
I'm glad that you got that off your giant, flabby
I'd call you a Donkey but you look more Shrek
When the Iron Man chef busts a
open up on you like a fine red wine
I'm a culinary innovator, no creator
Regurgitating French plates like a glorified
I'm fresh, past your expiration date
Alright, fuck it, blue team, the bouillabaisse (yes, chef!)
I've seen little show and it sure ain't pretty
One part Big Bird, two parts Miss
You test me with your fatty recipes
Call your Mastering the art of heart disease
I its rubbish (yes, chef!)
look at 408
tell me who the (yes, chef!)
to learn to cook calf brains?
You call these rhymes (no, chef!)
they're stale and
now take this jacket
now give it back and off!