Jack Skellington vs. Sans

[Verse 1: Jack Skellington]

Greetings, good fellow, now don't be abhorred, abhorred
I’m not a human child we're not at war, at war
Slim and Shady, the Pumpkin King's track roars, track roars
I’m beginning to feel like a rap gourd, rap gourd

Whether slacking your post or you're cracking a joke
You're average at most, and your passiveness shows
When you're tasked to dispose of a ravenous foe
But you let them go past and attack on your bro

'Cuz you're asked by a goat that you don't know
Then you turn into a basket case loner
And I'll be dunking you off the backboard, backboard

To battle is witless ’cuz this Jack is a Ripper
My friend you couldn’t wear the souls out on the back of your slippers
I'll lеave you bent out of shape likе italics, so listen
I’m an icon, the only star you are is Patrick, you misfit

You're looking big-boned and awfully flimsy
You'd turn to dust just going down a chimney
Shaking kids' hands? Man, you’re getting too Frisky
My bars are serving you harder then Grillby's

I'm like a Jack-o'-lantern
My legacy's keeping lit
But, judging by your boss fight
You're used to sleeper hits!

[Verse 2: Sans]

Heya. You've been busy, huh?
This isn't the first of your rapping jests
Bud, if you're stepping to me
You're really not gonna like what happens next

I'm leaving your sins crawling down your back and neck
This showman is less professional than my text
It's time for your judgement, so I hope you pass the test
Sounds like on the track, you're a True Pacifict

Listen, Jack, you're classic but not flawless
You're a facet, a mascot of hot topic
But couldn't capture the masses, you're not popping
And gonna crash like it's jack-in-the-box office

Looking back to the rabbit you held hostage
You should've asked 'bout the crafting of hip hopping
Even Alphys' lab in the Hotland
Couldn't bring you back after how hard this brat's fallen

You're a reckless ruler that your town's Tim "Burtoned" with
Your plot's more stitched together than your girlfriend is
I'm thankful that Asgore is just a passive king
You leave your citizens burning in Halloween

Kidnapping Santa? Cultural appropriation?
Even my costume in Smash was better representation

So stop all your carols, this monarch's in peril
A hotshot as bare as his snob goth apparel
I'll knock knock on your little sock hop and fire my shots off
Like my name was Lock, Shock and Barrel

[Verse 3: Jack Skellington]

Even on a beat this skeleton
Just has flatlines
With bars like that, I'm asking
"Do you wanna have a bad rhyme?"

You started a prankster like loosey-goosey
But you turned to a sadsack like Oogie Boogie
If you stand and do nothing you'll rot and you'll suffer
I'm killing this beat you can call it your brother

I'll give you this, among preteen children, you're sure successful
How ironic, you went from underground to surface level

I'm lighting you up like my top pup
Compared to Sandy Claws, you're washed up
I may be the pumpkin, but Chara
Left you the only one who's carved up

[Verse 4: Sans]

Once a year you appear hyped up by nobody
Popping up like you're a glorified So Sorry
All just to terrify children? Your film should've come
With the "trigger-treat" warning, you're so boring

This no name's growth became only respectable
Three decades later, don't gloat up you fame
You hoped and you prayed about all of the dough
You could make on opening day but nobody came

Bud, check the legacy I've developed
My game crushes your Rotten Tomatoes, you'll never "ketchup"
And with my sequel, my franchise is sure to make it
While you'll end up like your employees: filled with de-termination