Verse #1: (written by Gene Pool)
alright that’s it, Masta C ur such a fuckin bitch! Y u always gotta step to my shit?
But u know what I’m sick of this, to think how it ever came to this/
u and me? We ain’t homies and never will be, still beef, cuz u bring stale beats/
backstyle, and rip u slowly, u woulda never made it if u wouldn’t have known me/
cuz ur a far step below me, ur style weak, rememba?! I’m the one that brought u to the streets!/
And u’d be dead, if I wouldn’t have helped u get out of that debt/
next time u get into that shit, I’ll leave it to them loan sharks to lay u at rest/
it’s time to take the test, u think u can out best my crest? Bitch u studied my riffs/
read that shit from left to right, but obviously now u think u can put up the fight!/
But this shits gonna end with ur life! If u don’t get ur fuckin rhymes right/


Verse #2: (written by Masta C)
My fucking styles weak?!..yeah weak as a damn-tank/
I spit so much it forms a “pool”…and this man-sank/
And I don’t gotta read your shit…cause half of it don’t make-sense/
Yeah I had to get you to help me outta the debt?…I was the one to pay-rent/
And if we would ever fight…you would not last..not at all/
Cause im the one full of ideas…without me you would fall/
And this bitch enjoys gay bashings…just like his uncle that’s-gay/
Plus hes getting fired from his job…so he really lacks-pay/
And im tired of working with you…cause you’re a pain-in-the-ass/
We were cool once before…but you cant put change-in-the-past/


Verse #3: (written by Gene Pool)
oh so I’m the fag? What about that time u ran through the gay bar with ur dick flailin away/
ya u almost nearly forgot about that day, din’t u, and I had to pull u out or else they woulda been but fuckin u!
U woulda almost had me bro, but u forgot the fact that ur brain acts on slo-mo u fuckin hobo/
And I may be losin my job, but at least I’m legit, unlike u, u sell ur drugs to little kids, and ur dick to little chicks!/
So fuck ur shit! Cuz ur style of rap is wacked fatter then the spread in ur ass crack! Now that is wack!/
Now thas gotta be the reason y ur ass is so fat, cuz u’ve proply taken to many cumshots in the past/
So next time before u act up, think back, at all the crap u’ve made me put out with/
Cuz next time I might not be there to help u, well, maybe to drown u, to de-crown u/
Cuz my style is demandingly profound to u, cuz my sound pushes right through to u/
Straight rip ur shit, cuz my riffs spit sick, and vaporize all ur weak ass shit... bitch!!!/


Verse #4: (written by Masta C)
Fuck man at least I get pay…and I can actually get-laid/
Cause I got all this shit going for me…I got shit-made/
And your not one to talk…cause I caught you fucking ya sis/
Sipping ya piss…made lame excuses, saying I was the one you missed?!/
I think you got the fucked up “genes”…cause your losing-it/
Taking to much dick in ya mouth..its bruising-shit/
And your styles just “out dated”…its going all rotten/
And yeah I saw that poster on ya door…saying “got-men?”/
Bitch ill just smack-ya…never back-ya…cause ya honestly just-suck/
So fuck you bitch…don’t fuck with me…cause ill leave ya a crushed-fuck/


Verse #5: (written by Gene Pool)
alright look, let’s just play this shit by the book, cuz obviously we both go good/
so let’s flip the script on this shit, and play it like a trick/
so quick, cuz we bust lyrics and make ppl hit the ditch/
straight hit shit, and ppl just sit in their own piss/
cuz we dangerous, when we both latch grip, and blast shit/
get cash paid, cuz we all out insane, and aren’t scared to take this shit straight to the game/
cuz we ain’t lame! All tha otha bitches act tame, soon as we mention are names/
Gene Pool, mean, gut slash and crash, cuz the mosh pit neva lasts, when I straight bust with gatts/
And Masta C, he just all out insanely crazy, see no hesitation if bitches be complainy/
so possibly ppl are messin with the wrong duo maybe, Masta C tell these ppl what we like when twistin heat/


Verse #6:
Me and Gene-Pool..our team-rules…cause we that ill we Cough-n-up-blood/
You go against us…we “beat you” till your tender…you just soft-n-ya-done/
We just rip-crazy…cause y’all get-lazy…and we cant be stopped!/
We going to the top…we just hot…bullets melt before we get popped/
Bitches cant get past us..cause we solid as a rock….no pentatration/
Cant seep in the cracks…so the only way you can beat us..is if ya send-ya-nation/
We just the leanest…and we are the meanest…we don’t pack-the-heat/
Cause if ya fuck with us….your better to just face us..cause ya turn ya back-ya-beat/
And our rhymes are in perfection….cause we always leave all in question/
This is our profession….cause y’all wonder whats gonna be in our next open mic section/

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<center><table style=filter:GLOW(color=red)>Atmosphere - inspirations of following in the footsteps of story tellin rhymes</table></center>

<center>Corrupted Visions</center>

<center><table style=filter:GLOW(color=black)>Giving Sight A Third Eye</table></center>