My Lines-rock-Cats who show up to battle wit No Weapons...Why-Combat?
My "Glare" is Death, as I put "Knives to Vowels"...so you "Die from I-Contact"
Ya Rhymes Eye-Contacts, they can "Never Real-Eyes" my Skill-is-Tight
Ya couldn't spit "Amen-Mints", if ya "Blessed Tic Tacs" or recited the "Bill-of-Rights"
I'm Built-to-Fight, my Weapons-Sentences, its all I Needed-to-End-This
D --> rown this clown In Syrup, just so he could understand the Sweetness-of-Vengence
Logic Weaker-than-Lettuce, he aint Rippin'-Me, he coudnt have Presents if he Wrote-in-Christmas-Trees
Live up to your Name, Logic...Out of Breath already, Joggin' the opposite of the Road-to-Victory???ROFL!!
What ever I Wrote-is-Infamy, ya can't get Near-It, my entire Verse-is-Fearless
Put Logic in a Cognac Bottle, cuz all my Opposition evetually Turns-to-Spirits
I Compare this Herb-to-Beerpiss, he leaks with waccnes, smash ya Cabbage-Under-my-Feet
My "Seven" Punches got Log-in-a "Daze", No Wonder ya "Week" of defeat...