It's Yours

Pacewon

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    [Pace] Yo, huh? .. What?
    [Jean] It's your/it's your/it's your - it's yours!

    [Pacewon]
    You have now entered the realm of the Pacewon zone
    Where the rudebwoys rule and the pussies run home
    or the shots that ring out, or the ass I done beat
    Niggaz don't wanna bring out the bad side of me
    I rolled on your set, you poets need practice
    MC's like rugs; I walk on these rappers
    Huh - heads or tails, I flip pennies
    Uptown buyin hydro with counterfeit twenties
    Soldier, take control of
    your body and your mind like yoga, play you like poker
    Black like Roker; cops press charges
    but my lawyer get me over - more blunts to roll up

    [Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
    The streets ain't safe at night (it ain't safe)
    The gangs come out at night (they come out)
    Stick-up kids get robbed tonight (you get robbed)
    The innocent get raped at night (innocent get raped)
    Even on Halloween; when the fiends
    come out with paper bags and tight jeans
    Askin for credit? You can forget it!
    North, South, East, West! ... Yo, put 'em up, put 'em up, put 'em up
    It's your/it's your/it's your - it's yours!

    [Pacewon]
    Pacewon in a rush ta, bust off loads
    Really with drugs, sendin +Thugs+ to the "Crossroads"
    Goin to war with my four-fifth and more clips
    than the ghetto got poor kids, welfare and orphans
    Top seeded; pissed like a boxer
    when his nose start bleedin, movin on heathens
    Lockin up BM's - me C and Ra three
    immortal rap beings, don't catch feelings
    Mr. Perfect, cause a disturbance
    like the Rodney King verdict
    Violent like your father when he drunk off bourbon
    Money sex and burners
    Before you walk the streets make sure you got insurance

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    [Chorus]

    [Pacewon]
    Hey-a, praise-the, Pa-cer
    I-got, fatter bags of raps than your local 2-for-5 spot
    Wanna bust me but can't cause you Krusty
    like a clown from the Simpsons..
    Kids like you go up in flames like instant, better stay distant
    Cash your chips in, or die like Richard Nixon
    Deep don't sleep as much as I need to
    Pacewon I stick to my guns like M.O.P. do
    Rap ciphers, graffiti, lighters
    Feel the packed pistols, love the Outsidaz
    The streets is on fire, rawness, flawless
    Kickin chumps dead in the chest like Chuck Norris
    Shoot at the beast, Crooked I to East Orange
    We ready to rock, my block the hardcorest
    Money and sex, drugs you better learn this
    Before you walk the streets make sure you got insurance

    [Chorus]

    [Wyclef] It's yours!
    It's your/it's your/it's your - it's yours!
    [Wyclef] It's yours!
    It's your/it's your/it's your - it's yours!
    [Wyclef] It's yours!
    It's your/it's your/it's your - it's yours!

    [Chorus] - to fade

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Wyclef Jean

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