Chorus: Dogfight Up All Night Wrong Or Right The Brawl's Hype 1st verse: Wanna provoke? watch my nose spit smoke my clothes rip like Hulk lyrical quotes align rhymes with musical notes is this a beautiful hoax or an atrocious reality? i know my question has got you perplexed when i look into your eyes and see my reflection i'm obsessed when it comes to spittin' bowels from my jowels i howl words like Ginsberg and swarm like owls on field mice/ this watertight dogfight beat slaughter nightmare on your street is real hype when I write it feel's like laughter like in a lab writin' on slabs of plaster fastenin' my vocab with castors into notepads as I'm hangin' off the rafters half mic master half pastor - that kicks habitual rhyme rituals I'm a mechanical - bull ish kicker I wrote the manual on breakin' sounds down to granules i channel my animal instinct towards those who think their shit don't stink I'm on the brink, nobody can stop me from spittin' sloppy jargon/ leavin a mark in you like carbon copy a kawasaki wheelie poppin' posse couldn't stop me from torchin' bodies like nazi crotch in my hibatchi chorus: Dogfight Up All Night Wrong Or Right The Brawl's Hype 2nd verse: sixty four fights without a loss or a draw My sharp clawed paws knock dogs to the floor What’s more? In the annals of dogfight folklore There are Paul Bunyanlike tales of my exploits….. I just ran through your reality checkpoint Exaggerated viewpoint by choice Exponent proponent open and cogent My art I hone it never own it past the moment Clown dog opponents, I send hounds back to the pound The mic I hold it, proud, my crown is golden, behold it I astound the crowd when I put any dog down inside of three rounds Scrounge the lost and found for the slept on sound and cold lounge, immaculate Crackin’ whips on uninhabited islands I’m imaginin’ Diamond skies unravelin’ rhymes about climbin’ inside of the mind passionate Rattlin’ off thoughts and not babblin’, just battlin’ dogs and my demons Drinks are frequently needed! I’m undefeated with my knees deep in reason Still I heard that you were bleedin’ from the ears after my reading Retreating armies beaten to a pulp and hung for treason Dogfight Up All Night Wrong Or Right The Brawl's Hype

First verse: Shred Lexicon I’m ‘bout to break it wide open, Endless range of motion, Poetic notion quotient infinity (Dope moment) Devotion to my liberty as an emcee On the microphone I get free vocally Living life as metafiction Challenging perceptions, deflecting all questions, The next alleged legend yet nevertheless method When I roll with my brethren, R-H-P! Yes we perform phenomenally like Muhammad Ali You oughta quit botherin’ me I’m a throwback before my time The way I design rhyme and colorblind minds Yes I’m Shred Lexicon iller than Mecha-Godzilla Pressure’s on, killer! Steppin’ on quitters who mock the way I drop text, My complex vision built upon a convex mirror’s optics from the onset Grab the mic, examine life with forthright hype cast light through black night New Trotskyite prototype let’s fight! (that’s right) We’ve nothing to lose but our chains, still the lingering vision remains Sisyphus at last on the plains (Strange!) We need a new myth these days Mysterious ways arrange the age but the changes are vague So don’t be afraid to disengage from the maze Crazed and untrained is my phrase Advance mad rants, enhance the stance of man But dance now before chance unplugs the band Chorus: RHP phenomenal Hurdling your obstacle Unstoppable Punch you in your cyclops monocle! Second verse: Phon-X I'm Phon-X the distinguished linguist armed with English, a militaristic fist & open mindedness making my consciousness feel bliss conformists will dis cuz they're inhibited by ignorance cuz I'm original like fingerprints they wanna slice off my finger tips I linger like ish not flushed when i bust like busts out bras made to enhance cleavage regenerating headpieces...like wildebeests feasting on open grasslands with fast hands I grab the 7 inches of steel, heads think that I reinvented the wheel reveal I've got specs like X-Box send numbness like thumbs after sunset in a sweatshop getting props cuz our Cyclops Monocle is a 3rd eye with an enhanced glass particle a cranium carnival, busting like tusks of carnivores reeking of carnage making sausages from emcee cartilage and always keep our heads underground like ostridges and yeah I'm agnostic cuz how could God let man take nature hostage? Chorus: RHP phenomenal Hurdling your obstacle Unstoppable Punch you in your cyclops monocle! Third verse: Shred Lexicon Let me ask you a question, tell me What would it mean to you? How would it seem to you if I would sing to you? If I would bring to you a style so original Considerable syllables rhymed at odd intervals I be the guy that’s always fucking bugging out Running round the underground Snuffing out the unprofound Wack emcees you better shut your guttermouths! It’s Shred Lexicon, Exfyl and Phon X marks the spot where we’re steppin’ on! Where we belong is inside the song Inside the depths where all becomes law Inside the kinds of minds we strive for Define our times through rhymes and line drawings Art lined walls surround the spy halls! – (Don’t be foolish!) For art there ain’t no blueprint Leave elusive shoeprints to confuse the ruthless Authors of this new world order, water torture, special offer Free bricks to those who bring mortar So try to deny me in the infinite legitimately rippin’ shit deliberately different my portrait is significant I hold a mirror up to life and pray for rain to wash away the night The beauty that I create, in truth, is fleeting Ephemeral sexual secret! The lunatic shall have his moon The dish shall have his spoon Flow like lagoons after the monsoon Immune to doom headpiece tycoon! Chorus: RHP phenomenal Hurdling your obstacle Unstoppable Punch you in your cyclops monocle!

chorus: This is an accurate depiction Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison Slavecamp, creatively constricted Slavecamp, mentally convicted repeat 1x 1st verse (Phon-X) My boss is an Fn’ A-hole C-sucker, trying to reprimand me like my mother He says one thing than wants another, so when he’s coming I’m running for cover Or else he’ll smother me like a jealous lover And discover my obsessive plan To do my own thing while working for the man stressing Don’t question a task that last hours He’ll nit-pick every bit to show power Nothing’s his fault even though it’s opposite His composite can be confused with vomit & feces He’s sneaky, he has hidden cameras and he’s peeking Behind my monitor, I promise ya One day you’ll hear this song and know all along I made money from you being a fuck face My life is like that movie office space Except my cube has no walls No room to scratch my balls Hear every word of my personal calls "Word, Phon’s mom has hangnail?" It’s not logical – to express my frustration in words is not possible! Chorus This is an accurate depiction Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison Slavecamp, creatively constricted Slavecamp, mentally convicted repeat 1x 2nd verse – (Shred Lexicon) Responsibility illin’ me out Subliminally intimate joust in the infinite Significant presence of something other Smothering me and so I suffer Grasping at the brass ring while the devil’s laughing at me Passing for the corporate face Tellin’ me anybody can be replaced….. Is there a place for the autonomous man within that structure Or must I rupture in order to build It’s true I’m skilled but not in diplomacy I take control of my destiny through poetry Reprioritize your corporatized lives and organize the tribes! Don’t you know that prophetic scribes defy pathetic cries? Rise up and be accounted for! With bountiful pride! Live and vibrant. My vibe nonviolent. Who made the silent majority the authority On how to horribly shortchange our destiny Don’t just pretend to be satisfied Escape from slavecamp! Flee the penitentiary! Chorus This is an accurate depiction Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison Slavecamp, creatively constricted Slavecamp, mentally convicted repeat 1x 3rd verse (Phon-X) I step into the subway depth, instantly I’m a sweltering mess awaiting my ride to death Over time, with non-paid overtime expected Disease races to find places to hide in my mind Plus I’m not respected Cuz ulterior motives are injected in my method I must escape to climb to the fate of my dreams Can you relate I’m on the wrong team scheming? To regenerate my headpiece I’m missing a beat where the tracks meet It’s taking a back seat My mind packs heat in the form of intellect But my employer’s paranoia shut off my internet access Now I’m sending Exfyl faxes on when we’ll practice They jack my check to pay taxes, then they send me home with the net While my boss lives off the gross of actors? FUCK THAT! White & blue collars holler if you hear me Bosses fear my ambition cuz it clearly goes against their mission statement Their enslavement is about as much fun as Rapecamp If such a thing could exist, I’d be penetrated by his fist While doing bank recs, I got him pissed Cuz I’m only there for checks and he doesn’t respect that my work gets done That’s irrelevant, since I’m hella bent on head-beats He busts my balls on pathetic spreadsheet aesthetics And if I don’t excel on Excel templates, I’m destined for an extended sentence See the resemblance to a frontal lobotomy? See why I always have a bottle in front of me? See why I must win the lottery? My boss needs sodomy Like in the back of the Bada Bing Come in my office, let me cum in your orifice But I don’t listen to exorbitant propositions I stay busy making myself look busy, when in truth I’m writing these rhymes of self-pity Chorus This is an accurate depiction Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison Slavecamp, creatively constricted Slavecamp, mentally convicted

Chorus: Fragments of segments of tangents of fragments of segments of tangents of fragments of segments of tangents, fragments of segments of tangents, fragments of segments of tangents. First verse: Shred Lexicon Words are weapons in the war of ideas, pay attention The message is clear Come here grab your gear, Let’s race, quicken your pace and taste the sweet mind of grace Erased by dates and haste Waste out of control my soul chase my goals My face is spaced Heads be on my pole like totem Cloaked in night, footsteps approaching Is it Odin? Have I been chosen? Delve into myth and be awoken by the poems I leave heads inprisoned in word prisms Disturbed and conflicted between ambitious living and the image of magician Utopian socialist vision, this is The illusion of substance when drones walk among us Cloned functions of nothingness Thumprints of simian underlings Myriad other things to trouble us so double-down on ugliness It’s the safest bet in town Shred Lex the Dostoevskian specimin, olympian equestrian champion Comin’ with the idiom giddy-up Takin’ on insidious idiots with manuscripts Cannabis activists all know my style’s miraculous Complex like calculus dig crazy deep like analysts God was the catalyst The rest of us reactionists (word!) So react to this! Chorus: Fragments of segments of tangents of fragments of segments of tangents of fragments of segments of tangents, fragments of segments of tangents, fragments of segments of tangents. Second verse: Shred Lexicon Regenerated flyin’ defyin’ the laws of physics Flip like gymnasts I’m a wordsmith like linguists English language misfit givin’ credit where it’s due but never where it isn’t I got a notebook in my backpack and I don’t look back at That which I know I cannot change Or what I lost and can’t regain I made peace with what remains and own my name! I’m the famed circular interpreter of foreign tongue murmerers Shred Lex the nurturer of flows alarming burglars I’d like to remedy the pressing quest for next Yet heads het stressed and perplexed by my text Direct hex on your house, detect my sex Recollect times spent bugging Shrugging my shoulders at apparitions coming at me running Sunken treasure hunting in my mind when I’m blunted Suddenly confronted by a hundred million ideas Plugging in my harpsichord next to a smorgasbord My oratory force of course is more than simply charming My uncommon bombin got you cooked like Ramen you can ask the Shaman Rockin’ drum circles where forgotten souls drop in and get open Emotion gropin’ old men feel the omen of the showman! Chorus: Fragments of segments of tangents of fragments of segments of tangents of fragments of segments of tangents, fragments of segments of tangents, fragments of segments of tangents. Third verse: Phon-X Fragments of segments of tangents Running rampant causing tantrums, pandemonium Beats breaking’ on a linoleum ocean Potent quotes are spoken of thoughts caught up in the wheel spoke You need the torque of horses on coke racing Porsche’s To cope with my nautious portions of endorphins First I court the flow with dinner and candy, get randy like rrrrrrRRRRR Stick a Mickey in the brandy til it’s hickeys Then it’s risky business, flow fitness like gymnasts in the Olympics Giving birth to my mouth’s inertia Follow my words like a cursor as I disperse Verbs, nouns & adjectives, looser than a laxative On a kid who thinks he’s eating chocolate Remember that? Getting busted by the teachers In the pep rally, shitstains running down the bleachers RHP in the speakers til there were blown tweeters Exfyl getting blown by the cheerleaders Style red-hot like Anthony Keedis’ chili pepper See me at the dogfight betting on the Irish Setter Rhyming better than Wyclef in November Assign the letters R H P to the definition of a trendsetter It’s Phon-X & Shred Lex tectonics with Exfyl the epicenter repeat

1st verse: I chew up facts and spit consumable tracks back Keep my gums tightly wrapped like wax packs Mack like black cats snackin’ on pack rats Respond see Phon React! I’m the attack of 11 men tacklin’ savagely Cuz I’m not trapped in contractually Like slappin’ skins I passionately Tap dance raps til my kneecaps get atrophied I cover all things accurately Like a sultry multi-faceted tapestry I like rap but this a rhapsody Like The Gap & Dazz Bands singing “Raspberry Beret” without Prince I convince listeners Exfyl spins twisters til blisters Servin’ misters & sisters agony Of defeat the end on beat magically Another’s tragedy confirms our reality Numerous reports of our own municipality I’m legal dope like nicotine daiquiris Yet illegal dope on part with crack factories I get open like a flasher’s coat Then I run outta batteries, “D MUTHAFUCKA D!” Welcome to the RHP academy of insanity Vocabulary strategy is maddening Chorus: How'm I expected to expand my horizons, when I been limited vertically Bullshit food for thought society's servin me - I DON'T ~ KNOW ~ WHY But we ~can be, All we ~can be ~if we just try This is my effort in a long established movement to make ya mind and body rock in unison So don't judge a book by it's cover Take another look and discover new colors brighter than the others 2nd verse (Munch): How'm I expected to expand my horizons, when I been limited vertically Bullshit food for thought society's servin me - I DON'T ~ KNOW ~ WHY But we ~can be, All we ~can be ~if we just try This is my effort in a long established movement to make ya mind and body rock in unison Activatin you within, stimulate so you appreciate and then can deviate ya mental state to fight for rights but still get to be home by eight AND BUCK THAT FREEDOM TREND - ASCEND! Really get free instead of wishin to pretend I got big hands, my destiny fits, weight flips like a bird when I swerve on the road to success This legitimate text, infinite from the get delivers sentiments intense in tenses present and next MUNCH ANd to the tenants all my Global Cypher Brethren Hip HOP infection of the breath, Spit sick segments!!

Whether age, race, religion or gender i don't care who you are cuz I won't remember anything, but your name & species cuz like me you sleep, eat & drop feces I followed the trail of Recses to E.T. but he wouldn't take time to see me He just sent me a note that read "Phon-X, humans are too needy & greedy it's beneath me. Back since you back-stabbed the Tee Pee, then had Thanksgiving with Indians on T.V. it's been seedy & disgracefull how you humans are so hatefull & so waste full" I said E.T., I believe in altruism but my verse is lyricism verse the system and they're not trying to listen, they're too busy building a Disney sponsored prison! a conglomerate division of government & business it's not a coincidence if state workers don't speak english well or if they're slobs with mob mentality following morality patterns What happened to humans answering phones? now we got electronic clones! Phon-X does his own part since hiphop became pop-culture.... I reinvent the structure Chorus: What's goin on in your head, when you see us rise? What's goin' on in your head? open up your mind revenge, rage, ranson pre-arranged, rain wash away the front-page fame I go to sleep & fake my own death then I wake up & fake my breath EXFYL! 2nd verse (Shred Lexicon): My style is amorphous cumulonimbus rhombus, Magnetic, point of a compass, Accomplices furnishing documents while the innocent brace for apocalypse.... Imminent, that sky is ominous, So get on the bus two by two Ostrich and octopus, Lobsters, llamas and iguanas horses, dogs in pajamas, Tortoises, corpulent porpoises, walruses! Dwarf organist laying down torturous keys.... I'm emerging through whispering vortices, Asserting my authority forcefully, the hell with normalcy! I'm questioning the rapture accordingly, my mantra Suggestion of a gesture, posture like a boxer I'm the nocturnal doctor overseeing the proceedings, Reading treatises, scopin' double helixes in petri dishes, Breathin' in life fresh like fetuses, Believe this is my idea of leadership, Remixes by leisure-suit geniuses, Carrying lanterns, illuminating caverns with courage Nourished by acorns, we flourish..... chorus: What's goin on in your head, when you see us rise? What's goin' on in your head? open up your mind..... revenge, rage, ranson pre-arranged, rain wash away the front-page fame..... I go to sleep & fake my own death, then I wake up & fake my breath! EXFYL!

First verse: Phon-X Emulator, I write rhymes greater than Phon-X ever did based on data from that clever kid's DNA molecules taken from hair follicles cuz the real Phon-X lives in solitude in an isolated room in a federal prison charged with making heads listen to his mission Involving a division of scientists used to create artificial intelligence with a twist Detachable dick, tits, ass, vagina Power to ride ya, grind ya and 69 ya Life like flesh, inflatable breasts 3 adjustable size inputs and a lust for sex yet the government said it was a threat and rejected the patent they seized the plans, imprisoned the man and changed the protocol for Robowhore into an android army for Manhattan! Chorus: Back to the core! Man needs sex not war Technologies next odyssey is the Robot Whore Man needs sex not war Technologies next oddity is the Robot Whore 2nd verse: They got satellites runnin' traffic lights burning the rhymes I write at 451 Fahrenheit They even analyzed what I type at the GlobalCypher website and used it to indict me Daily and nightly I'm forced to slave labor all because I voiced I didn't trust my neighbor They've got space stations inside craters cuz when the bomb drops they'll be like "See ya later!" They even used an inside trader cuz my Headsnack stock is hotter than the equator To try to stop it they framed the creator as a patsy for everything from the Nazi's to Ralph Nader Now I'm in their torture chamber with the Phon-X Emulator the remainder as my savior When will I see nature and not face a man-made convenience all over the region I'm reminded as I'm breathing we're mental kings, physical heathens with dreaming styles that defile wild kingdoms I'm only left with thoughts so I sing 'em I bring 'em Back to the core Man needs sex not war Technologies next odyssey is the Robot Whore Man needs sex not war Technologies next oddity is the Robot Whore Outro: Welcome to a vision of a culture grown monstrous Technology has spawned humanity impostors!

I wanna die with dignity ready for death And make peace with my past before my last breath I’m as guilty as the rest in this hypocrite fest We can’t save the world we can save what’s left What’s left, what’s right? Phon-X rockin’ the mic with a vengeance Lady’s & gentlemen start your engines My sentiments are resembling Enteman’s Fresh out the box, I clock heads like pendulums Knock ‘em into embolisms, reminiscent Of a time when rhymes had symbolism Like Regenerated, remain underrated Under the radar and underestimated! It’s my accent plus my cadence And my access to premeditated data written on napkins Exfyl manipulates the fader when Shred yells "Action!" We agitate the neighbors with our passion To do it, what? Craft our dreams and pursue it So the ones we love can live through it In our passing, we will be remembered But it’s just an illusion cast by the embers Time renders no need for feedback We attack dreams, reenact blood on the tracks I touch back with beats off the beaten track Cuz my tracks are never beaten They change like seasons chorus: The grand illusion, the sum of all fears, Mass confusion, the end draws near, Where will we go after the smoke clears? Can we blast past the last frontier?…. 2nd verse (Shred Lexicon): The new year’s baby is finished cry the instant newspaper missives when each step is critical -- Each breath integral, the digital lung, has my language encoded in zeroes and ones.... My heroes have sung and beat drums to overcome mass media’s attempts to dumb down our young, choosing to guitar strum not pop guns, whole revolutions composed on the tongue.... It’s you and us bums vs. them country club chums, Kids from the slums vs. sons w/ trust funds, Some are high strung others comfortably numb, Since corporations have us scrounging for crumbs…… Exposing the lies swept under the rugs, Not posing as thugs got em under our thumbs, Never outdone writing rhymes for the love…… We’re climbing up rungs headed straight for the sun, Though messiah tarries, have faith he will come, When we reclaim Eden, the race will be won, Still what am I, man or an idea? Death in my rearview, closer than it appears..... chorus: The grand illusion, the sum of all fears, Mass confusion, the end draws near, Where will we go after the smoke clears? Can we blast past the last frontier?

1st verse (Phon-X): Calling all cars look out for Phon-X droppin’ rhymes like homos on Oz droppin’ soap bars but I’m heterosexual wanted by the federal agents cuz I rhyme intellectual caged in my own rage/ if the world’s a stage then why is the audience/ gaudy and ignorant judging my skin by it’s pigment/ or is this a figment of my mind like a Sigmund Freud design my behind has hemorrhoids from shittin’ out wanna-be b-boy boy toys out like beehives deploy bees my rhyme is obtuse like 100 degrees I’m fumblin’ keys in locks to get the Mportd scotch hiphop on the rocks fine aged hops mixed with schnapps as I’m pourin’ and callin’ the shots my headpiece gots/ deep/ rhymes like dimes in slots pull the lever hit the jackpot of cleverness automatic props cuz the way I drop shit you’d think I hold the mic with chopsticks the herbalist journalist/ ventriloquist of gibberish playwright by daylight/ nightlife like a stripper’s tits but not promiscuous, I’m Phon-X the sonic colorist and I blast kids 2nd verse (Mportd Flows): m. port'd flows in labs where vicodin grows catch me so zoned, i'm in shorts bikin in snow with one pedal, while rappers after medals i shake game and break veigns til the laughter settles smoked brain in the fog, i broke the chain of the dogs watched mc's snort caine, proclaimin they're gods shake heads or nod, eatin corn off the cobs as amateur broads beatin porn off the jobs half of us born off a knob that dripped down another half don't know their dad, he skipped town why bother to trip now? mid-east is too hot for president carter so strip down, and drink shots with the current president's daughter i'll still love this album, regardless if it gets charted or i might be too late to the gate, my flight just departed if you haven't live yet, i suggest you get started meanwhile, when senile, i'll strap raps to my back and get martyr'd neck darted poisonous with mass times matter my flows, my boys and us, even fast minds shatter 3rd verse (Shred Lexicon): Call me the third party candidate, anti-establishment and passionate, poised to overthrow the present management Imagine it, activists examinin' the fabulous aspects of time travelin' -- Markin' wack emcees for banishment, talentless embarassments to hip hop inanimate like mannequins in flip-flops -- Tick tock goes the clock in the vestibule, Man invented time to keep you on schedule, And protect his revenue stream, Eventually this'll make sense to you. With theories on limitless serieses of images Tree-lined villages on hilltops in the infinite, Unfolding rolling hills holding still in my snapshot thought process. I'm going ape like I be reverse Greystoke, That's me skulking around your campsite, Day laborer, wagerer on nature, leaping from the trees at night with no flashlight. Poets are priests of the invisible, rhythmical landscape surveyors, subliminal movement towards the abstract Soothsayers, meanings revealed, peel the layers.... Regenerated heal souls without prayers!