Текст песни Erick Sermon - Move On | Слова песни Erick Sermon - Move On | Тексты песен Erick Sermon

Артист:

Move On

Данные: текст песни / слова песни

Жанры : hip-hop rap hip hop east coast rap new york

Видео: Erick Sermon - Move On

featuring Redman Passion

Intro:
(laughing) Yeah coming to you like yeah you know another one of those
flavorishis mackadoshis sour cream and onion type flavor.

Redman:
I rule the world like Kurtis Blow with my afro blown
I`m torn out the frame drunk style stagger like Ned the Wino
For black albino I`m like suicide on vinyle
The type of antidope shit you have to keep away from my nose
And I`m the, bombest rhymer, check my steez
My vocals are like vaginas, wet an MC`s when they open
My identities, blows facilities to ememies please test these abilities
I`m rugged, I pack a 24 studded, karrot automatic, 45 nigga slugger
So ring thee alarm, when your TV is on, I react freakin` to songs
When bitches see me perform, bitches say I strickly brake vertibraes
Bones back, chinky eyed like Japs I blow states off the map
Just by eye contact

Hook:
Don`t get it twisted and if you do, you best to move on move on
"Rock, rock on" - Redman (x4)

Erick Sermon:
Yeah, I shut down things for the moment, what?
Paying my does for them fake ass crews (yeah)
Who be claimin` to be the shit y`all stop
Gimmicks, hard core lyrics for an image
I`m stompin` `em the beast wompin` `em
Brain damage is caused, girls drop they drawers to the ground
I be`s the Effect like Wrecks, rhyme skills be shooting off like two black
techs
Somebody stop me I`m smoking like Mask
Shut your mouth, he`s a bad, uh, like Shaft
The E-Double bring the dopest material, way out cosmic type
Alcoholic whisky type funk for your sissys (word up)
Huh, I take it to the streets, if you can`t run up on my turf
then get some
cleats
I let one nigga slide in 93, but this year, he`s fuckin` history

Hook (X4)

Passion:
Strick nine rules the mind on the verge of destruction
Blood starts to boil like a lyrical combustion, eruption
Insane no pressure no pain, niggas falling off it`s strain to maintain
They be killing me, trying to preach to me, teach to me
I got a PHD in funkology
You got your bachelors and your masters in the field of dramatics
The lyrical are bringing the static from the attic, so cock your
automatics
I`ve had it up to here, you niggas are in danger
You better stand clear, no hugs no love and kiss mainstream America
They just ain`t ready for this, cause I`m nice as shit
Niggas be having fits, the Squad of Def be smacking hits after hits
And what`s goin` on in your mind I can feel it
Tremors in the body has caused for the healin`

Hook (x4)

Outro:
You know what I`m sayin`? Things is hot in the tunnel out in here you know
what I`m sayin`? Ah, N-Y-C streets is love, it`s hot in the summer, um,
spring, winter and fall things are just lovely, sweet & sour sauce. Doin`
this y`all feel this. I feel you.

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