Luyện nghe bài hát Swing It Over Here

"kick it over baby pop!"

murray, sermon, others

[km] it over here!
[all] yo it over here!
[km] swing it here!
[all] swing it over here!
[km] swing it over here!
[all] yo swing it here!
come swing it over here!
[red] yo, it over there!

Verse one: keith

My rap style is swift like boom
So come get a whip, and a bump, rough
Crews couldn't hold it in
The ordeal is I'm raw ill on the mic
Switchin my styles up a transvestite (word)
I think of as ? ? and
Keith murray is the champ
? come in against deep notable to lines?
I'll make you make the same mistake twice three or four
And nobody got a like this
You say, I got my thinking cap on backwards
I'll the retarded smartest rap artists
Regardless, to scream the hardest
I fuck your head up like with l.o.d.
Then you out of shape like a master yogi
I put my head your chest, just to see
Who's next in line, just to get
I makes contact, the interlude
I take my skills to another like qualudes
And you couldn't hear me out; the type of shit
I converse about'll drag your in the slaughterhouse

Chorus: change to [all]

Verse erick sermon

Cling cling, somebody tell me
Why I got more than don king without bouncing boxing rings?
*ding ding* I be the flyest guy you sawr on the microphone
Rip the shit to pieces, so me alone
me out, the way I freak the mode
The active half flippin so split 'fore I explode - boom!
So umm, pay attention, before I put you and crew on suspension
For being closed to my invention
Yo, I rock on reel when I record oh my
The world full of so I keep my shit stored
I rock the microphone I rock it right
And keep it and more blacker than wesley snipes
To my crew there's no
You want more then here's another batch, yo i

Chorus: throughout

"the redman that's what they me" --> epmd's 'headbanger' (repeat 3x)
[ed] oh no, comes the funkadelic redman

Verse three:

Aoowwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my goodness! this be
The funk I was stretching out my lungs
Funkadelic sums up *nasal inhale* I the mucus
tissue up my nose to stop the snot from makin spots
To be or not I still niggaz polka dots for plots
Now dawson had a survey sayin that I was awesome
Throw on walkmans while I pour the funk sauce in your coffins
Wake up! while the laced up just to pick the pace up
My style's freaky, nasty like ? pussy papers
When I her, you don't know check the four-uno-uno you know
funk mixture that gets your body, holy like scriptures
Now right about now I'm settin off a bomb to the empire
To ashes -- my shit's more raw than niggaz stashes
Massive funk, swingin bangin up while I fucked ya
I'm rough enough ta, fuck up another man's trucker
Redman's evil like the board of ouiji, niggaz could
A whole pound of weed and see me off the tv!