| What we be tellin these cats? |
| Yo, yo. |
| «Step up, nigga»
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| --Step Up-- *echoes* All them niggas out there
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| Tellin on all them niggas violatin STEP UP
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| Yo, yo; |
| from the Himalays to the pyramids of Egypt
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| Pace Won flow is dumb as Forest Gump weeded
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| Lynch Mob’s, Hit Squad’s then I freak with
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| More Golddiggers than E or PMD did
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| (Ha!) Word like so many hoochies on my penis
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| By the time I’m twenty-nine I have more Suns than Phoenix
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| Watch the man bust, pose for the cameras
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| And have reporters running/back like Barry Sanders
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| (Yo!) My habits is spray paint (tsss) and rap fresh
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| Pace Won gets more bank than NatWest
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| Walkin round thinkin which face to slap next
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| Like Latifah my Wrath is Madness
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| Ho-ha, more smooth than Billy D
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| Drinkin Colt 45 eyes slant like Phillipines
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| Serve the baseheads, my raps kill the fiends
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| That wanna MC but don’t know what it means
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| People wanna act large but can’t take charge
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| I tell em --Step Up-- *echoes*
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| Yo, yo; |
| Kids ask me for advice Pace on how to be nice
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| I tell em --Step Up-- *echoes*
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| Yo, yo; |
| If I see your sister cryin or fallin behind
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| I tell her --Step Up-- *echoes*
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| Yo, yo; |
| If you don’t need your teeth and your crew want beef
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| Then you can --Step Up-- *echoes*
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| Yo, yo, Bring em all, yo-yo
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| Since my small days always been real
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| With raps thats more fat/phat than that ass on Kim Fields
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| I’m roastin roaches, poets think I’m Moses
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| Partin oceans, people feel me like emotions
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| A poet and truth, I roll with the jewels
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| Voice of the youth (uh) one a ya diehard boys that’ll shoot
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| Keep my rep up, rappers want somethin tell em --Step Up-- *echoes*
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| Yo, yo; |
| You look soft, I hook off and kick butt
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| Attack like Hitler, if your boys weak avoid me like I was thicker
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| Rollin with the rich kids
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| Slick like the mac of the year, I know bitches
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| They bite you, scratch you, kick you in the groin
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| A two-headed coin that be makin people point (look)
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| And talk soft, but I walked off, I’ll remember
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| Defender of my people, makin legal tender
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| Got it made, no more goin to court now
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| I’m out doin the world while my brother hold the fort down
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| He said, «Pace slit the wrist if the cross you»
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| When your hands are tied, you’re only doin what your forced to
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| Don’t hate the Pace Won just cause my records sellin
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| Find a playa hater and I tell’im |