[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]