Information on the RapperEdit
Elphaba Thropp is the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz as portrayed in the fanfiction novel and broadway musical Wicked, the premise of which is to tell the story, in which she comes across as a one-dimensional villain in the original version, from her point of view. In both versions of Wicked, Elphaba is revealed to be the illegitimate daughter of the Wizard, who is portrayed as the true villain of the story. While in the novel, which is far darker than the musical, she eventually becomes truly evil like in the original tale, albeit with a very strong excuse as opposed to the original implying she was always evil, the Wicked musical takes Elphaba's sympathetic characterization further by making her out as only ever perceived as evil by the ignorant people fooled by the Wizard's propaganda.
They say each story has two sides, but this'll be a straight-up slaughter;
Make you vanish like my namesake saint behind a veil of water.
Not That Theodora Girl or some one-eyed, dried-up old crone,
Nor do I hail from Southern lands, but still I'm coming for your throne!
This pretty dame's more like a little dog as far as I'm concerned:
You're undeserving of your title; let your auntie out her urn!
Step to the Triple-W? Your nerve is more than I can stomach:
Crossing me's far from a Good Deed, but it still won't go unpunished!
Had the bite to match my bark right from the time I left the womb;
I'm still more down-to-Earth than you while taking flight upon my broom!
You've Let your Sanity Go, blondie: your word-craft's bereft of taste;
And here I thought your long-lost brother was the one raised by the apes.
Your brain is Frozen if you think you'll thrive through throwing down with Thropp;
Unlike my junk, there's not a doubt which witch is coming out on top!
But One Short Minute's all it's gonna take for me to clean your clock,
With Wicked words whose verbal vitriol no act of love can stop,
When they all strike your heart and end the Life that you've been Dancing Through;
No One will Mourn me, 'cause the only one who's dying here is you!
Your wretched raps are like my poppies: potent at inducing slumber,
But I need no winged monkeys' help to tear your straight-asunder!
I drop Ludicrously Fearsome Bombs! There's no way you can match this;
Butchering you worse than John Travolta's naming of our actress!
Don't look at me! Why am I even saying this line?
In all my life and times, I've never met a foe so brutal!