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Date Posted: 17:45:50 03/05/03 Wed
Author: Pathologist "The Catalyst of ELOHEIM!"
Author Host/IP: ppp-67-37-76-68.dialup.sfldmi.ameritech.net / 67.37.76.68
Subject: Key-styles for the child- in the back screaming for Path to come back like Ivy-throw-backs- I tackle rats in alleys till cats appluad and squad up like AML when I spit the martial LAW - with high-hats snares bass-drops and kicks- I'm iller then you when you bed-ridden puking up shit.. word, check the stance I rock the M.I.C's like I was born with it in my hands!

The living death walks without steps
feeding on imbecilic reps like Gore and Bush
YES, I leave votes tallied up benevolent belligerence-
monitory to Hypothetical luminaries over rhetoric’s,
spoken jokingly to ignorant anomalies barely weaving existence speckles-
glass house moronic oxy
reversed to dry up pores when I breathe
Breathtaking artillery silent as dirty weaponry,
robotics cybernetic logic terms of
Esoteric deposits of sense, the hell with
spelling it out- I spit monsoons in the mist
Of flowing droughts; pelage pageants pejorative
within peevish sheepish humanity delving
Blindfolded wandering focus-less less powerful
to the opuses I stagger with metaphoric
Daggers within likenesses of similes direct as cable
connects regarding respect I orbit
Truths organic roots, catching
cascades of dust particles training
while strengthening my fruits
green tea and shrimp-tempura soups slashed-
my wrath dangerous as wolf packs
I spit with an enormous idiomorphic kick-back
the impact of bends ship ridden sicknesses
within the stomachs of weak men tipping toxins
whenever I defend on a whim
Battling batwings over Gotham
looking for Night-wing you kids ducking
darts like Dark-wing when I surpass
my own lines before the targets defined
as seen I lean on triggers
While you funny style niggaz
ask for the silver lining
on my clouds I move through
Stainless trivia, who’s the only man
to talk street on nets and really
sell cocaine from Bolivia
never asking for respect?
A trained vet who trained VETS to be ill,
The blood spills real on reels
12 inch to binary wills I conjure in a concourse
Manifesting realism to hear and see on a worldwide scale-
met your maker while He’s feeling well!
PHARELL I got Neptune in my pull, killing
jigga- like he's ment to be a fool
willing to take on scrabbles of mispelled
monikers sweet as Willy Wonka smoking mad chocolate
in factoires of fairies and imps- graphic
with this sense that dispells non-sense
winking like a stupid bitch on the corner
I resurrect you idiots like Common and Sigorny
and leave you sacrficed living dead like Martyers!
morners resurface like new-skin to witness what
Path just did!

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