| Song | Swing It Over Here - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Erick Sermon |
| Album | No Pressure |
| 作词 : Sermon | |
| "Kick it over here baby pop!" [Chorus: Murray, Sermon, others] [KM] | |
| Swing it over here! [all] | |
| Yo swing it over here! [KM] | |
| Swing it over here! [all] | |
| C'mon swing it over here! [KM] | |
| Y'all swing it over here! [all] | |
| Yo swing it over here! [KM] | |
| Come swing it over here! [Red] | |
| 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, it's rough | |
| Crews couldn't hold it in handcuffs | |
| The ordeal is that | |
| I'm 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? | |
| I'll 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 | |
| I'll demolish the retarded smartest rap artists regardless, tryin to scream the hardest | |
| I **** 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 who's next in line, just to get wrecked | |
| I makes contact, bust the interlude | |
| I take my skills to another level like qualudes | |
| And you couldn't hear me out; cause the type of shit | |
| I converse about'll drag your brain in the slaughterhouse [Chorus: change to all throughout] [Verse Two: Erick Sermon] | |
| Cling cling, somebody tell me something | |
| Why I got more props than | |
| Don King without bouncing boxing rings? *ding ding* | |
| I be the flyest guy you ever sawr on the microphone | |
| 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 there's no match | |
| You want more funk then here's another batch, yo | |
| I [Chorus: all throughout] [EPMD's 'Headbanger'] "The Redman that's what they call me" [x3] [ED] | |
| 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 blunt's laced up just to pick the pace up | |
| My style's freaky, nasty like ? | |
| Seka? pussy papers when | |
| I raped her, you don't know check the four-uno-uno you know | |
| That funk mixture that gets your body, holy like scriptures | |
| Now right about now | |
| I'm settin off a bomb to blow the | |
| Empire to ashes -- cause my shit's more raw than niggaz stashes | |
| Massive funk, swingin bangin bent up while | |
| I ****ed ya | |
| I'm rough enough ta, **** up another white man's trucker | |
| Redman's evil like the board of ouiji, niggaz could smoke a whole pound of weed and couldn't see me off the | |
| TV! |
| zuò cí : Sermon | |
| " Kick it over here baby pop!" Chorus: Murray, Sermon, others KM | |
| Swing it over here! all | |
| Yo swing it over here! KM | |
| Swing it over here! all | |
| C' mon swing it over here! KM | |
| Y' all swing it over here! all | |
| Yo swing it over here! KM | |
| Come swing it over here! Red | |
| 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, it' s rough | |
| Crews couldn' t hold it in handcuffs | |
| The ordeal is that | |
| I' m 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? | |
| I' ll 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 | |
| I' ll demolish the retarded smartest rap artists regardless, tryin to scream the hardest | |
| I 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 who' s next in line, just to get wrecked | |
| I makes contact, bust the interlude | |
| I take my skills to another level like qualudes | |
| And you couldn' t hear me out cause the type of shit | |
| I converse about' ll drag your brain in the slaughterhouse Chorus: change to all throughout Verse Two: Erick Sermon | |
| Cling cling, somebody tell me something | |
| Why I got more props than | |
| Don King without bouncing boxing rings? ding ding | |
| I be the flyest guy you ever sawr on the microphone | |
| 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 there' s no match | |
| You want more funk then here' s another batch, yo | |
| I Chorus: all throughout EPMD' s ' Headbanger' " The Redman that' s what they call me" x3 ED | |
| 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 blunt' s laced up just to pick the pace up | |
| My style' s freaky, nasty like ? | |
| Seka? pussy papers when | |
| I raped her, you don' t know check the fourunouno you know | |
| That funk mixture that gets your body, holy like scriptures | |
| Now right about now | |
| I' m settin off a bomb to blow the | |
| Empire to ashes cause my shit' s more raw than niggaz stashes | |
| Massive funk, swingin bangin bent up while | |
| I ed ya | |
| I' m rough enough ta, up another white man' s trucker | |
| Redman' s evil like the board of ouiji, niggaz could smoke a whole pound of weed and couldn' t see me off the | |
| TV! |