I'm A Swing It

Chorus 1

On and just on, and (x10)

I'm a swing it

Wach me bring to the next level

To grab DeNevel's

Getting funky like the devil

Brothers from the Bijou

So why you wanna trip

Just play the side lines

Kid, and wait for me to slip

Cause I can feel it in the ait tonight

But yo I'm not Phil Collins

Or, unlike Henry Rollins

Cause I'm search and destroy

You wanna toy wit the plot

Tryin to get what I got

You might get- shot

Hot damn manna's son

Ya got ebonics

They teach ya how to write

I'm writing like I'm hooked on phonics

Mother goose aint got shit on me

Cause I'll get loose at the jam

And wreck the whole party

I make 'em jump and mosh

Oh my gosh

Just slammin in the pit

While I'm kickin my shit

They buggin in the isles

Cause I got madd styles

And aint a damn thing funny

I get money in piles

Some poeple thought I'd die

Thats just a rumour, though

Others thought I'd follow up

But now I'm numero-

Uno, Dos, not Quatro

Word to Kool Keith

I'm a break up ya teeth

When I die, Bury me (me)

Hang my balls on the cherry tree (tree)

Let them git ripe

Then take a bite

And if they don't taste right

Then dont blame D

You need to quit swingin,

The styles that I'm bringin

The Funk knuckled dragon

Who gits on the wagon

I'm not the 12 stepper

Dont play me like a lever

My mike sounds nice

But it's not salt and pepper

Well it's the man

With the plan

To get all your skins

The tip on my dick

Is where the line begins

Wit all those former lines

Take off that swine

I'll git your ass Butt-naked

Lets see if you can take it

Cause I'll make you feel

Like a natural woman

Cause I keep it comin

I'm the everlastin'

Free style assasin

With soul in my goal

Is to bring a little passion

To your girl's life

like the daily soaps

Throw down on the bed

And tie her up with ropes

Chorus 2

The Lyrics keep on and just on and

The Lyrics keep on and just on and

The Lyrics keep on and just on and

On and just on and on and just on and (x2)

Chorus 1

I'm just another ranger with the Derry face

Punk motherfucker in the prime of my race

You need step back, kid

And give me some space

and rock the cold shot

At the party

When I'm rockin the place

Danny Boy's arrivin

With the standar 65

In the heft dont laugh kid

The graft is survivin

The out law bike

With my bitch thats on the

Highway to hell

Cause I never tell

Well it's the funk back breaker

Weeded up like Jamaica

Dont bring your woman to the party

Cause I'll taker

Hit the deck

Cause I'm down wit the hoolies

I got a trunk

Full of funk

Like the Groovey Doolies

I'm not the man

Brotha asked who was he

Quik's got the hair do

Just like Ruth Buzzy

runnin' round

Like you been to jail, son

But ya hit the swatly

To get your hair and your nails done

Get off my sack

Cause your shit is wack

Ya diss me

And I'm a diss you back

Chorus 1 (x2)