Swing It Over Here Lyrics - Epmd

"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 

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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 

Photos 

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 

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 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!