Bartek:

I scratched this on my pad, like I snatched a welcome mat, to ya head, i'm comin, closer, and quicker, than illicit grips of viscious words composed by critics, becuase, who are we spittin for, but really/
I make this known, this ain't my style, so, prepare for bile and liver, cause I spill like red wine but quicker/
An introduction to your induction into your function/
RatpackSlim, your Backpack'sthin, your canvas ain't thick enough to withstand my think/
I'm double brink, in a double sink, spilling double ink/
It's a stand up show, i'm the comic and you're my hand pup, I'm imitating, your voice, it goes "I gave up"/
This battle is not for the faint hearted and yet, no doubt, you will choose a feather to scribe with/
I respect your poetic ability, but as a battlist, you lack the ingenuity/
Welcome, to a ride of your mental, I speed on cerebral highways, so I can over take your receptor defense mode/
I'm spitting venom, like I should, I hear you scripting love odes, like you would, It's all good, I respect you, but that doesn't mean, I can't re-elect you, you are the new chairman of commerce, cause every hit that I offer, you can re-sell at the highest bid order, make profits, my presence is water, I'm flooding your gates like SkyWalker/
I can defeat you, with a slight shift in my consciousness, from respectful, to vengeful, I will take the form of a martyr, and disqualify myself in a point of abstractness/
I am a collector of souls, and I want yours too, it's a little thin, worn out, and chewed, I suppose there are too many rats in your Backpack, to Grim, and material too slim to withold my breath's span/
I'm going to impregnante your root canal's with my thoughts, the pain in your teeth, will spread like brushing with rocks/
Digest my words, if and after you swallowed, I know chewing was tough, but by that definition, the pain is still hollow/
I'm coming for your stomach, your arteries, and your heart, I don't want to destroy you, nah, I just want to bend your will to my might/
I'm stealing, the show, it's only a matter of steps, before I ascend to my crown, you winning this battle, is akin to me turning your frown upside down/
Ain't gonna happen, too grim, and too serious, I'm battling your shadow, so I can box with your illness/
Combining words, to devise battle raps, both philosophical, and intellectual, at that....intersection, you will find a red light, go, when it flashes, because the green is the release of my races/
Run you over, I may, or side swipe you, either way you look at it, I'm beyond, and beside you/
You done for/ I say that, in every verse, to every challenger, but for you, I had to transcript a muse, so that you would begin inspired to lose/
I shape shift when night time casts it's glance upon our shoulders/
I start as the moon, and transform into backpack straps, to strap you to a momentary binding of a jacket vest/
Put your raps back in your backpack, they are full of holes with a foul aroma, sat on, and chewed by a rat pack, I understand why you call yourself slim/
The nutrition by way of your means, or, the food for thought that you bring, is rotten, and only good for a short binge/
You cannot outwit me, or out match me, I have been raised to appear placid like acid/
My peaceful appearance, is a dark beauty, touch me, or drink from my grail and find your mind like a pail, collecting the reign of my hail/
The earth has a heart beat and I control it, count 4 times in 1 measure, find my treasure and record it/
4 times to 1, is the ratio of my verbal ability to your Noun (None)/
In my next measure, I will provide you with proof that my treasure, shines the brightest, and your treasure, is the lightest/
Rat, this ain't a silly battle, but I am silly competitor/ Consider our meeting like scrabble, I’m the sanitizer and I just spelled tranquilizer /
That means, you a rat placed in a tranquil mind state, somewhat, like a vegetable, but not really, if I was that silly, I'd place you in a blender and make a health shake/


RatpackSlim:

welcome to the squared circle, king of the ring
bartek the people's champ against the next big thing
flashback to ratpack grabbing the strap
a radioactive cat cleaning up like hazmat
less about the battlerap
more open to spoken word
but dec threw me in the set cuz we need a token nerd
and if i can't flip styles, maybe i'll just flip the bird
as we james bond over drinks, leaving you shaken, not stirred
got temptations just to take this
but if tek is like chappelle, ya know he's gonna get his show back
and he'll rock a brand new jersey
while i'll sport the same old throwback
in fact, me entering this tourney? a joke worthy of monty python
but at least it's got y'all talking
just like photo's hacked-up icons
so in the interest of keeping it clean, i'm gonna bail while still pristine
and i'm out like r. kelly as i say peace on sweet sixteens...

"There is nothing more poetic, but depressing than a male writer" -yours truly