Pathogen vs Atari Logic

[trap.]

04-17-2002

Atari Spit:

I posed an open battle call, this cat took a chance-and-then
this "sickly" spitter quickly withered as he encountered his "antigen", I advance and win stampin men who tried to
fill my "shoes" or replace-my-"feats", I fill cyberspace-with-"beats"
tap ya "sole", slaughter ya in Ottawa, crack the flag pole
and break-ya-teeth on the maple-leaf, ya raps "swoll" only
after I jab-ya-chin, Pathogen get's slapped-and-then
laughed at as I proove my raps is better then his,
they act as medicines kid, you-just-"act",
the only thing that ''bust out ya mouth'' was my huge-nut-sac,
only thing ''on point off ya head" was a loose-duntz-cap,
prolly reuse-dumb-raps while I recite deadly-strikes,
slicin biters like Wesley Snipes, you wanna "step to me" right?
well I'm hopin-so, there's only a slight discrepency, ya walkin on "broken-toes", I poke my foes with explosive blows
Pathogen's an unrepentant-liar, fuck a growin nose
my scorchin flows will set-ya-flesh-to-fire.. like a involuntary human-torch, droppin a rhyme top of the line like
torque on a zoomin-Porsche, exudin-force, ya took a chance
ya put ya life in my hands.. ya loosin-yours, cowards have no use-in-war now ya oozin-gore, abused-and-sore bullseyes are what I choose-to-score.. MUTHAFUCKA!!!


Path Spit:

Here go a giftless, dick blowing missfit who needs flowing fitness.
Patho's fist'll keep ur 'lips' on 'locks' & not when u 'blowin' 'Kiss'-es.
While you still pussy, you still kitten, i'll have ya whole grill splitting
Gang rape Atari or to put it 'blunt'-ly i'll fuck u 'in-turns' like 'Bill Clinton'.
Break Logic's neck into two, and put the tek to ya tooth, the fact is it truth.
I got rap scripts to boot, that stomp til they bury u & get u back to ya roots. (faget vet)
Or attatched to a noose, pay for ya life but couldn't bring visa to this.
Path'll capture ya life and force you to 'seize' to exist, put ya knees to ya lips.
Cuz ass is what u proceeding to kiss, its just with ease that i spit in sports gory.
Yoda don't got force for me,I'll cut off ya life & change ya name to short story.
No mics, u in clear sight targated for my spears strike, appears plight.
You fear stryfe & like Bambi's mom on ER, you best hold on for deer life.
Known to clean up even before chloride. u nice, but thats just a formed guise
In this fight I throw ya optics to the wind, cuz ya verses a sight for soar eyes.
De-'cap'-atate you, sever ya 'wig', and like 'red seas', i'm partin ya 'waves'.
You start like decay, hits show ya 'chest' what 'time' it is, sorta like 'flave'.
'Clocking' ya lights out, 'seperate' you from 'greatness' like 'Mikes spouse'.
And battlin me you outta your element like terrorist touring the white house.....bitch