It's Yours - Pacewon, Wyclef Jean

Yo, huh?.

What?

It’s your/it's your/it's your — it’s yours!

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

Niggas 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

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 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 Zee 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

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

It’s yours!

It’s your/it's your/it's your — it’s yours!

It’s yours!

It’s your/it's your/it's your — it’s yours!

It’s yours!

It’s your/it's your/it's your — it’s yours!

— to fade