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lyrics

1st verse:

Hey bastardo, don't be startled,
just do the Charo & shake your frame
explaining the game it's Phon the Don Pardo
here to kick arse-hole into tomorrow
Why we got more haters than carbo-hydrates
I pull their tarot, high stakes
they lose their marbles, irate psycho-babblin'
stuck in canoes without paddling
It's like Doc not changing the plot
when he rocked the time-travellin', through the wormhole
let's go- to a primordial portal
as the most import folklore since Zorro
Flow like dorsal fins through tital winds
I'm makin' it pop like Orvil Reddenbock
I'm impartial to what's immoral
like Bon-Bons, blowjobs & Gonzo porno
tomgirls with pom poms the Phon be on
autopilot, check my mileage on the "Autobahn"
the Kraftwerk song wrecked my Ortofons
flow so cool like is it Phon or the Fonz?
like Armstrong on the Tour de Franz
sans one nut not going for the bronze
Hear the song of invaluable animals
when i die, feed what's salvageable to the cannibals


2nd verse:

What can I getcha? Let me fetch a rhyme that'll
set your mind better, set your spine on a stretcher
or better yet strech ya like Heather Hunter
after getting balls hitting tether like leather-
strap-on it's fun for my tongue to run laps on
Phon raps on drum tracks like a cowboy has high hats (hi-hats)
my snare snaps, like bear-traps
right where my nutsac meets my lower butt-crack
I peel it back to reveal I'm chapped
so drink to that like Ipecac syrup
I'm done kicking shit wash my stirrups
stirring up my lyrical elixir
making up a magical mixture of compatible pictures
the radical back from sabbatical
like Parker on the saxophone, hit heads like Wack-A-Mole
pack a bowl to the brain of Phon
RHP rise like unexplained hard-ons
beg your pardon, excuse me followers
our joints remain on point like sword swallowers
Got you hollerin' like girls huggin' koalas and
I rest my feet on their breasts like an ottoman
RHP taking notorized bribes
to make the words flip like the script was polarized
What's the time? It's time to get iller
than Illeana Douglas at a fuck-fest
fuck it, I flip it and crack it and saute it
and filet it & break it and make it a brain omelet

credits

from The New Animal, released February 1, 2009
Written & produced by Phon-X.

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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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