Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Watcha Gon Do?, artist - Terror Squad. Album song Terror Squad, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.09.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhino Atlantic
Song language: English
Watcha Gon Do? |
Yo, yo, yo, yo… |
Yo, yo, yo, yo… |
Yo, yo… |
It’s hard to explain how my squad can harbor the strain |
Of being the largest name in rap, since the almighty Kane |
Acknowledge the fame |
My college terrain was the rugged streets from Harlem to Queens |
Back to the Bronx who fathered the dream |
That Started this thing called rap, where I reign supreme, my team |
Regardless of that, I’ve seen things as far as a crack |
That’ll make the hardest largest artist heart just collapse |
I’m part of all that that’s why it’s so hard to go back |
And start it from scratch |
I’m locked and I’m trapped in a giant cage |
Tryin to savor these few dyin days |
I have left, to the form of flesh |
Should I lie in my grave? |
I’m tryin to persuade, my mind to try to be brave |
And not give death the satisfaction of seein me dyin afraid |
That’s why I rise from the grave singing church songs like |
I was Je-sus Christ ba-rum-pum-pum-pum |
Whatcha gon' do when Pun comes? |
Knockin' at ya front door |
And he wants waaaaaaaaaaar. |
ooooh (holy shit) yeah |
He ain’t a rapper he’ll kill you |
Till my last breath I’ll have death before dishonor |
(come on) and welcome drama (yeah) |
Wit open arms and a code of honor |
My hole persona equals that of gods |
Definin' matters hard and more before you even had a job |
I’ll stab and rob if I have to |
Fuck it i’ll blast you, tell the devil it was Pun if he ask you |
And let him know how we be deadin' um' |
Show 'em my emblem, the tombstone, the throne, every millennium |
A child is born that can perform at a level beyond |
The expected 4 minute 30 second song |
We reign supreme, my team be all up in ya dream |
Wit the «kill anything» grill, chillin' beside the guilotine |
Executioner style, black suit and a smile |
Who’s next to get they neck hacked loose in the crowd, move from the aisle |
Don’t make me have to prove that I’m wild |
Word to Cuban, my crew killers, y’all niggas shoot in the clouds |
(Who's in the house) |
Punisher’s straight from hell. |
Who’s in the house |
(Terror Squad motherfucker we the real) |
What’s the deal, now you know that’s how we roll |
Hard core like BO bring in the corns baby bro |