Dog Fight

by Regenerated Headpiece

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05:56
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04:55
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04:15
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05:36
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05:07
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04:12
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10:33

credits

released May 1, 2003

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Regenerated Headpiece New York, New York

Regenerated Headpiece has been described as everything from “old school” to “futuristic”, and compared to recording artists ranging from A Tribe Called Quest to “Weird” Al Yankovic. But perhaps RapReviews.com said it best when, in their favorable review of Rat Race Vacation, they wrote: “Regenerated Headpiece brings a style of lyrics and beats that doesn't sound a whole lot like anything else. ... more

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Track Name: Dogfight
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
Track Name: Cyclops Monocle
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!
Track Name: Escape from Slavecamp
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
Track Name: Fragments of Segments of Tangents
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
Track Name: New Colors
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!!
Track Name: Anthem Eater
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!
Track Name: Robot Whores
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!
Track Name: Grand Illusion
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?
Track Name: Mass Times Matter
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!