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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.

Видео-клип к песне Move On

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