Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Swift, artist - Salt-N-Pepa. Date of issue: 31.12.1989
Song language: English
Swift |
| The duo is back, competition check out the new style |
| Then get the heck out |
| Put on your battlin’gear, but don’t come strapped |
| Bullets are not needed, this time it’s rap for rap |
| I’m makin’the move, and soon you’ll have to make yours back |
| In fact, the further the rhyme is dancin', Jack will get a lip smack |
| So break up because it’s time you shook up, you gotta make up It’s time to break up the party, now you’re shook up Salt and Pepa’s gettin’swift, livin’up to par |
| And competition, how to Whassup is to ride the bra strap |
| Hurby’s on the beats, Steevee-O has the musical notes |
| Spinderella’s like a propeller spinnin’music so dope |
| Makin’a lot of noise for all the boys shootin’the gift |
| Hold on tight cuz tonight Salt and Pepa’s gettin’swift |
| You might have thought about goin’against the spices |
| Salt and Pepa’s a mixture like Chinese rices |
| Battlin’time, Mr. Macho, please don’t try to rip |
| Because I’ll melt ya like Nacho cheese |
| You want flavor, well here’s something to savor |
| Why don’t you wave a microphone in front of my face |
| And a do small favor, gimme a beat so I can bust a rhyme |
| For all the nerds, let all the words feed your mind |
| Statin’the things and pleasin', takin’a rest, I’m out for easin' |
| Bodily functions makin''em dance and Pep, this is the Christmas season |
| This is duck season, and I’m gettin’high |
| You’re outta luck, duck, now it’s time for you to get and die |
| The ebony queens are back on the scene |
| I assume you still suck like a vacuum machine |
| Cornball sucker, give me a break |
| I’m-a drop you from the sky like snow, you a cornflake |
| Born to break any sucker or half-stepper |
| Who wants to get assaulted with a deadly pepper |
| Go down, low-down, this ain’t no showdown |
| The competition, I’m sure they’ll blow down |
| Even if you seem to stand stiff |
| The breeze of the rhyme makes you move, and we get swift |
| Suckers and flukes, it seems you lost and time to put up dukes |
| Cuz you just forced it, the furious females to fly to (fuck) with |
| Stay stiff suckers, soon you’ll be stuck with a rep, torn to shreds |
| A musical score leg, need a victory? |
| I left an 'S'on your forehead |
| Don’t fuse up now, it’s time to put out lights |
| I won’t ease up, pal, cuz I’m-a go outta sight |
| Lyrical queen, mess around, and you’ll get creamed |
| The star of every male’s fantasy or wetdream |
| The ebony princess in a lyrical safari |
| Battlin’me is like a Honda racing a Ferrari |
| If you were the king, what laws would you have me obey? |
| None, my son, cuz I’m quicker than a ??? |
| Quick to split the chick tryin’to get slick |
| You’re nothing but a prostitute turning a new trick |
| Little Miss Wench, my mind is a trench |
| Makes you drop, then you stop in your tracks and as I clench |
| My fist, I twist words you use to rip |
| The next time you flex, I’m guaranteed to get swift |
| Hip-hopper's, rap artists, and rhyme fanatics |
| Can you believe there’s a sucker trying to cause static? |
| Break out the health supplies and medical aid |
| Prepare your mind for a super, alphabetical raid |
| Rhythmic explosion without corrosion |
| Rhymes, in effect, that protect like a Trojan |
| Against disease, sorta like a wack MC |
| Rhymes more powerful than a punch at Jack Dempsy |
| I fear no one, plus I tell no tales |
| I will stand up to any male or female |
| Ones who persist to resist end up a prisoner |
| Hissed in a daze or a faze because he is in a State of shock, too hard for one to take |
| So in a multitude of crowds I run to break |
| Beats for torture, but don’t get played |
| I stay paid, I caught ya now you shook, you’re afraid |
| Scared of the fact we came back to uplift |
| The name, we designed the game, and we get swift |