Текст песни Erick Sermon -  Move On   
                                        Erick Sermon -  Move On слова песни 
                                    
                                    
                             
                            
                            
                                
     
 
                                                                     
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.