Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Swing It Over Here, artist - Erick Sermon. Album song No Pressure, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.10.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: DEF JAM, Universal Music
Song language: English
Swing It Over Here |
«kick it over here baby pop!» |
Chorus: murray, sermon, others |
swing it over here! |
yo swing it over here! |
swing it over here! |
cmon swing it over here! |
yall swing it over here! |
yo swing it over here! |
come swing it over here! |
yo, swing it over there! |
Verse one: keith murray |
My rap style is swift like boom bips |
So come get a whip, and a bump, its rough |
Crews couldnt hold it in handcuffs |
The ordeal is that Im raw ill on the mic |
Switchin my styles up like a transvestite (word) |
I think of competition as? |
? |
and |
Keith murray is the vocabulary champ |
? |
come in against deep notable to breach lines? |
Ill make you make the same mistake twice three or four times |
And nobody got a style like this |
You could say, I got my thinking cap on backwards |
Ill demolish the retarded smartest rap artists |
Regardless, tryin to scream the hardest |
I fuck your head up like amphetamines with l.o.d. |
Then bend you out of shape like a master yogi |
I put my head through your chest, just to see |
Whos next in line, just to get wrecked |
I makes contact, bust the interlude |
I take my skills to another level like qualudes |
And you couldnt hear me out; |
cause the type of shit |
I converse aboutll drag your brain in the slaughterhouse |
Chorus: change to throughout |
Verse two: erick sermon |
Cling cling, somebody tell me something |
Why I got more props than don king without bouncing boxing rings? |
Rip the shit to pieces, so leave me alone |
Check me out, the way I freak the mode |
The active half flippin shit so split fore I explode — boom! |
So umm, pay attention, before I put you and your crew on suspension |
For being closed minded to my invention |
Yo, I rock on reel when I record oh my lord |
The world full of jackers so I keep my shit stored |
When I rock the microphone I rock it right |
And keep it hardcore and more blacker than wesley snipes |
To my crew theres no match |
You want more funk then heres another batch, yo i Chorus: throughout |
«the redman thats what they call me"-→epmds headbanger (repeat 3x) |
oh no, here comes the funkadelic redman |
Verse three: redman |
Aoowwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my goodness! |
could this be The funk that I was stretching out my lungs |
Funkadelic sums up *nasal inhale* I clear the mucus |
Stick tissue up my nose to stop the snot from makin spots |
To be or not I still give niggaz polka dots for plots |
Now richard dawson had a survey sayin that I was awesome |
Throw on your walkmans while I pour the funk sauce in your coffins |
Wake up! |
while the blunts laced up just to pick the pace up My styles freaky, nasty like? |
seka? |
pussy papers |
When I raped her, you dont know check the four-uno-uno you know |
That funk mixture that gets your body, holy like scriptures |
Now right about now Im settin off a bomb to blow the empire |
To ashes -- cause my shits more raw than niggaz stashes |
Massive funk, swingin bangin bent up while I fucked ya Im rough enough ta, fuck up another white mans trucker |
Redmans evil like the board of ouiji, niggaz could smoke |
A whole pound of weed and couldnt see me off the tv! |