Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What U Wanna Do, artist - RBX. Date of issue: 10.11.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
What U Wanna Do |
| Once again |
| The circle |
| Continue to hit’chu with these massive hits |
| Ya know |
| We gon' do it somethin like this |
| For all them busters out there |
| Check this out |
| (Hook x2, RBX) |
| Hey |
| We came here to ride |
| Falling back to ready |
| And set to collide |
| Niggas you won’t know the death you died |
| Suicide, it’s a suicide |
| (Verse 1, Warren G) |
| I’m deadly as ever |
| Ready for whatever |
| Tryin’a keep my pockets heavy on the cheddar |
| Got nothin to prove, just really expressin myself |
| While y’all niggas in the studio stressin yaself |
| Ya got to do it, so why not do it big? |
| Drop the music, and spit fluid to they wig |
| Under dig, I’mma split the game in half |
| And leave 'em all mad, like Warren what’chu done did? |
| Hey, we came here to ride |
| Never slippin, Beretta sittin on my side |
| Blaze up, cause I’m tryin’a raise up, and flow |
| I came up, from broke, to papered up |
| Don’t test me, I bust like a twelve-gauge sawed-off |
| And hoes jump on stage and rip they drawers off |
| And I see through, all that’s see through |
| Make up a weave in ya head this evening, but hey |
| (Hook) |
| (Verse 2, Warren G) |
| Sworn to the streets |
| Born in the beach |
| Armed with the heat |
| Mourning my peeps |
| Makin niggas respect mine |
| I came to collect mine |
| Comin through with the Tech-9 |
| Lettin my neck shine |
| Might let a nigga slide with a pass |
| But next time, I might disconnect his neck from his spine |
| Run up and catch him from behind and stretch him |
| We squeeze triggas like ketchup |
| Wet’cha whole stretch up |
| Scared of the truth |
| You fear it, don’t wanna hear it |
| Til' the Smithsons bust |
| Then you listen up |
| Cause I’mma tell it like it is |
| Like it was, or like it always will be |
| Give a fuck if you feel me |
| (Hook) |
| (Verse 3, Warren G) |
| Who am I? |
| W-A, double R, E-N to the motherfuckin G |
| Suicide, niggas hang they self |
| Might as well bend over, and finger-bang they self |
| Sell they soul for the fame and wealth |
| And end up broke and lonely |
| Nobody to blame but’cha self |
| But me, I keep it all business |
| Cause this is business, can I get a witness? |
| See I been chillin like a villain |
| With a million and my children |
| Plottin on revealin what the game been concealin |
| I got a little older and learned a bit |
| Applied the effort, and earned a grip |
| Now I notice it’s a hater, in every circle |
| As I roll another Vega, heavy with purple |
| Take a puff and inhale |
| And hold it til' it gets stale |
| In my chest, exhale my stress |
| My nigga R-B-X |
| (Hook) |