2013 GC RD.4 Phroxen Vs. Mcjewfro(Mcjewfro Wins 3-0)

[Phroxen]

Empathy

She felt a disgrace.. a staggered pattern with a Celtic embrace..
smelt is the taste.. bruised aluminum fused to her melanin shade.
egg shell relishes praise.. plus gusts bereft of reddish or beige.
left and right go in stride; coincide like an elephant's gate.
That means the sight won't quite match. Rhinestone eye patch..
Cyclops to a double blind rhyme match.. cyclone-size fast.
Seismograph is Hydro-climactic, water colored other Mario Brother.
opposite notes to a composite approach of the Atari glow color.
Smothered brush strokes dance in the distance; she panics with tension..
both hands have submitted, clamped against the damage within it.
The half-checkered clasped sweater lacks ambidexterity..
a dis-conjoined twin with past laughs & plans to jest merrily.
& a sutured loosened knot.. profusely exudes human rot..
fuchsia knocks at her joints inviting typhoons of lurid thoughts.
Chartreuse & charmed youth isn't on the medulla's menu..
It's consumed with sinful venues & you can assume the rent's due.
The light switch produces shadows.. no filament fillin it.
Her kilobits shutdown.. darkness comes 'round.. insipidness: imminent.
A prism absent balance.. her chalice filled with sadness..
..yet still half empty; with a side order of impending malice.


Disgust

Look, basically I'm saying she's fucking depressed.
I mean, look at her.. she's got absolutely nothing for chest..
Her natural skin tone is muddy as best..
& it looks like she dumpster dove just to call something a dress.
Right arm lookin like gangrene.. emphasis on the green.
Hair's slimy enough to function a griddle with all the grease.
If a picture's worth 1000 words.. & money talks shit when it's off its leash,
this bitch should just honestly buy a Polaroid & shift the economy.
You're broke, hoe. Broke in every fashion of the word.
Any attempt to be fly ends up as a massacre of birds.
you can't change; you'll always have a stature in the dirt..
Even tried to take a look at you with glasses & it's worse.
Your fuckin shoulders are sharp & bony.. body odor of raw bologna..
Aww, you're lonely? Wanna trophy? Nah, jabronie.. all you hear is "gargle/blow me".

[Phroxen]

Empathy

She felt a disgrace.. a staggered pattern with a Celtic embrace..
smelt is the taste.. bruised aluminum fused to her melanin shade.
egg shell relishes praise.. plus gusts bereft of reddish or beige.
left and right go in stride; coincide like an elephant's gate.
That means the sight won't quite match. Rhinestone eye patch..
Cyclops to a double blind rhyme match.. cyclone-size fast.
Seismograph is Hydro-climactic, water colored other Mario Brother.
opposite notes to a composite approach of the Atari glow color.
Smothered brush strokes dance in the distance; she panics with tension..
both hands have submitted, clamped against the damage within it.
The half-checkered clasped sweater lacks ambidexterity..
a dis-conjoined twin with past laughs & plans to jest merrily.
& a sutured loosened knot.. profusely exudes human rot..
fuchsia knocks at her joints inviting typhoons of lurid thoughts.
Chartreuse & charmed youth isn't on the medulla's menu..
It's consumed with sinful venues & you can assume the rent's due.
The light switch produces shadows.. no filament fillin it.
Her kilobits shutdown.. darkness comes 'round.. insipidness: imminent.
A prism absent balance.. her chalice filled with sadness..
..yet still half empty; with a side order of impending malice.


Disgust

Look, basically I'm saying she's fucking depressed.
I mean, look at her.. she's got absolutely nothing for chest..
Her natural skin tone is muddy as best..
& it looks like she dumpster dove just to call something a dress.
Right arm lookin like gangrene.. emphasis on the green.
Hair's slimy enough to function a griddle with all the grease.
If a picture's worth 1000 words.. & money talks shit when it's off its leash,
this bitch should just honestly buy a Polaroid & shift the economy.
You're broke, hoe. Broke in every fashion of the word.
Any attempt to be fly ends up as a massacre of birds.
you can't change; you'll always have a stature in the dirt..
Even tried to take a look at you with glasses & it's worse.
Your fuckin shoulders are sharp & bony.. body odor of raw bologna..
Aww, you're lonely? Wanna trophy? Nah, jabronie.. all you hear is "gargle/blow me".