| This is W-O-U-T, with a quick caller question
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| Caller, can you name a quick three countries
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| Can your friends? |
| Depends?
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| Yo! |
| It’s the Pacewon-er, more hot than late summer
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| Eighth wonder of the bass drum
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| Who can touch your melon you can tell 'em PACEWON!
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| You only do what Pace says
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| Bottle up the product and serve it to the bassheads
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| I keep it corporate, ain’t with that talk shit
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| Won made to bust like the guns the cops walk with
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| Hold a four-fifth, all kids vacate
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| Testy to press me like a can of spray paint
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| Cause by the time a policeman appears
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| They’ll be cuttin down the bodies I hang like chandaliers
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| Hip-Hop prisoner, Alberto V-O-5
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| In your scalp like conditioner, hit you by the eye
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| Fuck your 20/20 vision up, used to be a pilot
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| Now he can see light — now who his girl gettin high with?
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| Nowadays I’m humble, strictly on some shy shit
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| Usin my ears, keepin my affairs private
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| Livin that life of a righteous rap giant
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| Pack the black iron that roar like Mad Lion
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| Stingy, Ebenezer, never freeze up
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| Forever be the rapper that drunk that one
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| That black out like a seizure — burnin hot with fever
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| Right lung failin, from inhalin cheeba
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| World reknowned. |
| world reknowned. |
| world reknowned. |
| world reknowned
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| In my hood it’s people fiendin, screamin like the opera
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| Cuz was up early, drinkin dirty aqua
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| Never put they Glock up, restless like the young kids
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| 40's, they tongue-kiss, like who can get the drunkest?
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| Wear the right gear like them Nike Air strap-ons
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| MC’s write rap songs, hoochies wear platforms
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| It’s all G Broad Street down to Stuyvesant
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| Niggas got talent, move like Allen Iverson
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| Rappers by the number, Redman, Artifacts
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| Lords of the Under — sprint to get a glimpse
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| Bet the fireproof lighter troop make yo' eyes swell
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| Word to my _Fu-Gee-La_ and my nigga Praswell
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| Pacewon flips, I piss on niggas like the urinals
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| You keep on blurrin those WACK-ASS RHYMES
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| I break code and make access, grab my gun attack feds
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| With somethin that the rap heads can’t pass by
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| World reknowned. |
| world reknowned. |
| world reknowned. |
| world reknowned
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| Yo, mommy never knew I’d grow up to be a thug or
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| Be best friends with the neighborhood drug lord
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| Ironic lifestyle — who woulda thought that tomboy
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| You used to diss — got to be your wife now?
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| Sex in cars, money like the lotto
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| Brother try to foul me, Audi, cuatro
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| Crews fake bullshit and act stupid
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| I’m lootin, usin my third eye like a mutant
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| Rollin with the big men, ign’ant men fly
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| Mistaken motherfuckers, thought they had it locked
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| And along comes the Pacer — with ecstasy!
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| Got juice like a warden that can set you free
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| Chronicles of «Won», Pace the rhyme felon
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| Watch for my album.
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| World reknowned. |
| world reknowned. |
| world reknowned. |
| world reknowned |