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[Verse 1]
3 in the morning, you hop on the train 3 Brooklyn fiends is scheming on your chain Mad blunts and licks to the head, you red[?] Better sober up quick or you might get dead There`s no one around so ain`t no reason to scream out Here`s your chance to be a gangsta nigga, back that thing out The next move you make will decide your fate Will it be die on the train or live life behind the gate You framing[?] minor[?] [??], you contemplate prison rate Your heart skip a beat and you select upstate It`s on, you get a lump in your throat, niggaz weapons are drawn You so shook, you shoot straight through your coat 2 down, 1 boogie[?] but before you gone The train stops and one of New York City`s Finest jumps on [Hook] "Whatchu gonna do.." [sound of da police, shoots] [Verse 2] 2:30 in the morning on a friday night It`s one of those types of nights that everything`s goin right In a club, fishing for bitches, anything tryin to bite Then the one that you want gets caught in your sight Face - picture perfect, big titties and fat ass She`s asked if she wanna drink and she kindly pass Her response let you know she`s not the average stunt She asks "do you got a dutch", you say "yeah", she roll a blunt Weed[?] and conversation good, you fill the evening with laughter Then Shorty like: "yo, whatchu doing after" She continues what she`s doing is outta character But, she live`s alone and she wants you to smash her You bug, you can`t believe that she tryin to fuck You like: "let`s bounce", then you think "Lady Luck" You exit the club, hop up in your truck But when you get to Brooklyn East New York, you get stuck up [Hook] "Whatchu gonna do.." [sound of da stick up] [Verse 3] 1 a.m. - you in the studio, dropping verses about how you flip kilos Get paper commit murder and pimp on hoes Crazy ice around your neck with the thugged out flows But it sounds like game to the street wise pro`s Cause you be blabbing the [??] that you don`t even know Straight pillow talking, I hope you walk the walk And be doing all the shit that`s blasting out of shortie`s walkman The last verse is laid, your men is like [??] dope fiend All of a sudden the sound [???] wide open 3 niggaz come in, screaming "where the cash" And you know the shit is real cause they ain`t rocking masks They rocking big ass canons dawg, you better think fast Do you run what`s yours or go for yours and blaaast.. [Hook] "whatchu gonna do.." [sound of da stick up]
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