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swing it over here - erick sermon lyrics

“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 b-mp, it’s rough
crews couldn’t hold it in handcuffs
the ordeal is that i’m raw i’ll on the mic
switchin my styles up like a transvest-te (word)
i think of compet-tion 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 n-body got a style like this
you could say, i got my thinking cap on backwards
i’ll demolish the r-t-rded smartest rap artists
regardless, tryin to scream the hardest
i f-ck 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 sh-t
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 sh-t to pieces, so leave me alone
check me out, the way i freak the mode
the active half flippin sh-t 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 sh-t 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

“the redman that’s what they call me” –> epmd’s ‘headbanger’ (repeat 3x)
[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 n-gg-z 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? p-ssy 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 sh-t’s more raw than n-gg-z stashes
m-ssive funk, swingin bangin bent up while i f-cked ya
i’m rough enough ta, f-ck up another white man’s trucker
redman’s evil like the board of ouiji, n-gg-z could smoke
a whole pound of weed and couldn’t see me off the tv!

- erick sermon lyrics

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