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may the best man win..
Broken Pattern
In one corner, we got jeb the bodisnatcha
rhyme bitin', cookie munchin', crumb rapper
Master of the oratory spitting like he don't know how to stop
Rapier Ripping paper like knows how to drop
...please...
Jeb's feet gets rocked harder than stepping on cobble roads
Beat him on rugged concrete till his bodee collapse and folds
Hobble throws of stones at his temple till his mental finds it hard to think
Blink when I feint punches and catch him with the sink
Thesauruse rapper, disasterous when with his weapon
Can't think on his own without dense webster reference
Blast the bastard, walk silently and get hit with tree trunks
This dog barks heavy but his bite is soft like missing-teeth lumps
Jeb tha bodee snatcha jealous cause he claims no identity of his own
Spitting like a C.L.O.N.E with no roots gripping the microphone
A sub-product of the genome
Not even worth government funding
Scratch the lab plate to stage one, drawing sketches of his outline makes him look funny
Done with the corpse, skull fucking and leaving the vessle dead and wanting for the next probe
Destroy pod-replicant to get ready for the next foe
Toez tries to side stepp and got mashed into fear
Battle time, pussy, Dodgin me like hate groups huntin' for queers
Listen for cheers, Got porked by rusty spoon mobs holding tipped prongs like pitched forks
Make this his last battle, he's done when the heats off
Marinate in the steam, blazing game...<whatever>...you couldn't be hot if you was a gay pyro-maniac spitting with holitosis and beutane
In gasoline pools, playing with skywriters trying to wiggle out your verses in sake of your name
Tha truth, the fact that is, you tried to step and man-handle dis-mantles and beat me with gucci/fendi bag handles
Make bitch soup out you wet pussys that drip infectious
Uterus contractions to discharge Urinary drops splattering in all quarintined directions Masking the fault in talent as a strategic distraction
Jebebiahbodeesnatcha
Here's a apt suggestion for you and your gum drop crew, now's a good time to make a detour
set off my temper like c-4 I'm liable to hack-e-sack that ass up and down the eastern seaboard
you both bogus, marvel team up in an opus, one ferocious quote from my vocals could rip you open
your sitch is hopeless, we know your bitch, just fold it, or end up on the highlight reel of my quote list
my blades serve as sermons I slay vermin who don't display learnin'
Broken Pattern based his whole style being 'on the Fritz' like Gay Germans
singing Ethal Merman, belting out Broadway show spectaculars
grab ya purse grip it tight or I'll jack it for the vernaculars
wait, that would be adverse, why would I want bad rhymes in my arsenal
your a gay bard trying to play hard pray to God as I leave you dangling like a participle
perhaps I know why ya math don't add up, I chopped off FunkyToez so digits is missin'
quit bitchin' and hisssin', or I'll introduce your nose to my elbow like the '89 Pistons
chisel wreck with exquisite intellect misfits and midgets feel the physical effect
worse than flaming fist plunged to your birdcage to the wrist, leave you with a sizzle chest
spit that strafes face lay to waste post haste trace seams to break exposing ya ghost face
burial casket is close case, this was never a close race, I roast roaches on grates, poach fakes
leave comp shook like approaching quakes, no ones safe, taste the spray of mase
ya literature is immature, stunted in growth, like your musculature its miniature
feel the scimitar, for bringing bullshit to the doorstep of a raging Minotaur
you gomers askin what happen scratching ya head to the captain saying shucks shazam golly
without even tryin this black knight raises a riot, I enter and the crowd shouts Bumaye like I was Ali
Mr. Funkytoez
Snatcha and pattern are targets~brain matter's harnessed
hearts rip when Toez spits his sharp wit conceived from a blade and dagger harvest
get punched and slapped retarded~you two bitches aren't EVEN a threat
I'm not leaving just yet, like out-of-work magicians I've still got 'tricks up my sleeves to eject'
while ya'll cry tears and bleed sweat, awaiting my graphic response
I plan to become Mod CHAMP, turning you two CHUMPS into my 'PIONS'
Jeb holds his weapons shaky, swell guy but gunshy, only the wack fear your style
Pattern you could NEVER take me, I see in your frail rhymes your well's run dry stuck in last year denial
when your skill faded, now you come here to lose, and will again since Funky's here
you STILL hate that you haven't acquired respect running on fumes posting here for twenty years
and Jeb's even worse, ain't half as smart as a 'can of farts' on Elements actin hard
but I see a fag from far, and after I win this battle I'll make MVilla insert a rainbow flag as your Avatar
in blind match surroundings the Element of Surprise is to attack with raps astounding
to cause fractures in Patterns and snatch-their-hearts before they pour them out to me
Toez is the hardest prone to start shit, these wack dudes that oppose are harmless
no way my throne gets tarnished, I 'serve more MCs' than fast food from the Golden Arches
why give a fuck about these bums and their hundreds of drops? I shit on losers
LAWLESS enough to Puff a 'LUCY' in front of the cops and spit on their cruisers
ya'll beat Toez? NOT!! Jeb just read, respect and show props
when the flow stops, just too hot and off the Net I hold Mics like YOU hold cocks
and Broken you're an intelligent kid but I'll easily shit on whatever you spit
your Pattern's ARE Unbreakable, caus like Bruce Willis in that flick you've 'NEVER BEEN SICK'
wack ass pieces of shit, I've reduced you both to dingleberries
and given your corpses a free tour of their new neighborhood in the cemetery
after spitting twenty-odd bars of Buck Fifties I'm about done spitting... sons forgive me
I'm having an Orgy and neither of you are invited... BECAUSE YA"LL AIN"T FUCKIN WITH ME!!!!
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just playing) 
(it's late i'm sleepy ... sorry )
