<font color=white>Skorpione Vrs. Warchild <font color=aqua>ROUND ONE -- Abstrakt Atrozities

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Date Posted: 19:54:04 08/24/01 Fri
Author: SKORPIONE VRS. WARCHILD
Author Host/IP: 64.12.102.156
Subject: Skorpione Vrs. Warchild ROUND ONE

Skorp

*fuck punches*

I juxtapose the proses of Warchild's authorship studying the next victim in time's ripples
Warchild the name of a disturbed combattant, choked within the loops of lyrical riddles
I'm the epitome, sharpened and perfect example of what aboriginees wish to be
the fusion from every god of the earth to god of the sun unioned within one being
Danger lurks near listen closer with a def ear as Life's sound waves are ripped from your ears
Never again will you hear the sound of a screaming you from overwhelming fear

Pulling back a long pinky finger with a 3 inch nail stained wit blood, dragging the remains of a tympanic membrane
You strain to get your vision together in a sec's time frame but can't compose yourself for the pain
Cupping one ear wit both hands, screaming louder then most men, Cursing in unknown toungues
I pull up a chair watching patiently, the show going on, anticipating the split second you're done
It lasts forever doesn't it? The way I'm waitin manipulates the situation, and he finally speaks with a voice wavering
"fuck you skor.....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"... withdrawin the other finger...savoring
the sweet sound of your pain, better than pattering rain, and if you had a third ear I'd do it again
Just to hear you scream, kicking, crying and see you bleed
then thoughts consume my brain
Suddenly I'm pinning your head against your kitchen paneling, cracking your skull wit my knee
Your face becomes longer and stretches in length as your mandibles crush with your eyes bursting
Quickly grabbing pieces of broken glass as I carve my initials within the sole of your feet
So as you stumble to get away from me the initials DXW follow you closely
You can't get away the more you run makes me desire to kill you a million different ways
Stabbing your spine with a butter knife avoiding the important nerves cuz I don't want to hurt you... k? ................................
I give you a little space.......................................
Behind you, crawling into the bathroom slamming the door, you're a child of war I've never seen panic before
I grab your own battle axe chopping a hole through the center, toss it out the window, I'd rather stab you with a wooden splinter
W.aiting A.nxiously R.endered C.ompletely H.elpless I.n Literal Dessimation,,, A child of war is an inappropriate Defender
Ripping off your show curtains, wrapped around your neck, decapitating children is quite captivating
Taking that wood splinter and taping your limbs ramming up you dome, having a real stick figure in the making
Turnin on you gass stove to calm me down from the excitement, but the last spark within my iris caused it to ignite
Exploding your house
wit your head on fire I plant my art piece next to your mailbox and stroll off in the night

WARCHILD

ayo, Skorp is like E-40 with thunder thighs, U can never have THE ELEMENT OF SUPRISE
the constant irratation from flies when u typed ur rhyme was prophecy cause with these bars u shall die
fuck a Zodiac Killer, ya constellation of death aint evident under sunshine
my vocal warcries are mixed with homicide and a multiple force of demonic ties
I shall strangle ur kneck with just my two little fingaz combined
lacerations of whips across the backside, an irritation of pain intertwined with ya mind
your a bug to my kind, after I shatter ur life-line, I'm gonna floss my teeth with ya spine
U might of creatived Abztrakt, but I now rule the sector
fuck this tourney, we all know who is the victor
the child of war born an elixer of blood from Jack the Ripper and Hannibal Lector
please Skorp, ur fucking brain has to be warped if u think u can possibly cut my chords
the only chance u have is if u jumped in a teleport, and went back 19 years and convince my mother to abort
fuck that, I'm christ in the flesh, so there goes that resort,
bow before my outstretched hands, taste my blade's tip in ya nostril's ports
there's two brackets- one for the winners and one for those who got they ass kicked
but skorp's gonna need his own place entitled Lyrically Handicapped and Pathetic
u just dont get it, the fierce exhibit I portray isn't even touchable by angelic spirits
I lavish those addicted to death, those war hysterics
ya a whore to my physical merits, and my lyricals are an omega of deadly dicks
raping ya conscience and leaving ya beliefs seperated by triple 6 and 7 digits
Round 1 and who wouldve thought u would've lost,
with ya jewish verbal toss at a Hitler Idolizer endulged in holocaust( mean no offense with that to Jews)
the rap matyre of strenght is warchild the Mafia boss
ur a bitch in this regime of abztrakt thought, with ur played out punchlines and crucifix cross
I'm the vampire equipped with fangs similiar to sawed offs,
injecting my slugs into the artaries of the kneck, ya chance at elevation suddenly halts,

If you spitting rhymes worth substance was as equal to the amount of busted nuts
U'd be walking with a butterknife cause u will never get cut
Ur so pussy, I'm thinking theirs an even amount of rips in ya chest, slut...

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