Boner Police-Pat and Zen

[Certain]

You two play off each other well because you have such ridiculously fluid rhyme schemes but approach them in completely different ways. CopyPat is so beholden to the rhyme, so tight and refined in his approach. He doesn't take a break for content and is willing to ignore that in favor of rhymes at time. Zen, on the other hand, lets the rhymes determine his content but often has something to say.

Essentially, CopyPat is a powerhouse of technical precision, while Zen bounces around but never lets the fundamentals slip.

This, by Zen, was my favorite stanza of the piece, though it didn't exactly fit the tone of the verse:

You ever think you're original? Well you're not. Sorry to be so cynical, but I'm overwhelmed by pot. Hyper vigilante, from toe nail to crotch. Mind flickering, in a well of thoughts; times splintering. Where have I gone? Hives twittering from twelve to dark with lives centered in tribe differences. I'm alive, so why can't I find interest between my nine to five and side intimates? I'm high out my mind dying to live, I guess.

That dull boy-esque style seems to work for you, though sometimes you lose track of the fact that you still need to be interesting. Here, I really liked "why can't I find interest between my nine to five and side intimates?" That was great.

Then there was this segment from CopyPat where, in a very old-school style, he decided randomly to tell a story:

My fuckin phones a piece a crap. Its cause i broke it, screen is cracked. I was drunk and stoned and feeling smashed, so i stumbled home at 3 at last. Received a text and reached in my pocket. Grabbed my phone to see who's callin. The heat was on, i hastily rushed it. Popped out my hands and now I'm basically jugglin'. Had it for a sec, then lost it at last. Smashed it all to heck, and when i dropped it, it cracked.

That put me back in like 1991 on some De La Soul or Tribe Called Quest shit, only with an absurd rhyme scheme. Very cool.

I also liked this a lot:

I'm eating frosted flakes all night and beating off to babes online. I'm feeding off your flagrant rhymes, to ween me off this stage of mine. Completely off the base, I'm high. Careening off in space and flying

And this was the best turn of phrase in the entire verse:

I'm provolone with flavor.

You guys work well together.