Lyric Swing It Over Here

featuring Keith Murray Redman

"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 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
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

"The Redman that s what they call me" --> EPMD s Headbanger (repeat 3X)
[ED] Oh no, here comes the Funkadelic Redman

Verse Three: Redman

Aoowhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh 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 fucked ya
I m rough enough ta, fuck 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!