P. Diddy: What you gonna do

It's a Hell Up in Harlem, fuckit, another dayanother dollar, wake up, to the barking from the RottweilersPull the collars, make em sit for the GodfatherThen I holler, to Justin my son, run the waterfor the shower, trust fund scholarship sure to give him powerBaby momma call, she pick him up, in about an hourNow free to go, free to blow, with the calicosand the navajos, it's just the way this player knowsanything goes, finally caught up with my nigga Sam SamPicked me up, in the tan Lex LandWanted breakfast down at Pan Pan's, what's your favorite dish?He ordered cheese eggs and grits, I had the swordfishWhat is this? Three niggaz dressed in blackRoleys on they wrist, feathers in they hatOne tapped me on my back, then pointed at my stackPut my finger on the triggerthen I asked him, "Whatchu want nigga?"Chorus: Puff DaddyWhatchu gonna do when it's your turn to goWhatchu gonna do when you can't take no mo'You gonna cry like a bitch or take it nice and slowWhatchu gonna do when it's your turn to go(repeat 2X)Verse Two: Puff DaddyI pray to God that I'm dreamin, I know my familywouldn't take it, when the doctor said, "He ain't make it"Mom Dukes cryin, baby mom full of griefHow she gonna tell her son his daddy is deceased?Now she got beef with them bitches up the streetAll because I used to creep, with her girlfriend ShareseShe knows, I keep the hoes, from nation, to nationOn every radio station, Goodfellas in rotation, uhhThat's why niggaz wanna twist my shit, flip my wigAttempt to murder me like Tommy GillsBefore they draw, niggaz threw me to the floorDrill holes in my pocket, Sam launch the rocketThey wanna rip my arms out the socket, fuckin heathensLove to see a nigga stop breathinI heard a voice sing out, "Ain't you Sean Puffy Combs?Here's your eulogy, meet you at the Crossroads"G'night BoneChorusVerse Three: Puff DaddyNothing but clouds and white suits fill my visionWatching my life go down, like ChristianListen hear them bullets rang, shotguns and Mac millisspraying like a hurricane in this war called the terror gameAnd deuce deuces can't stand the painLittle guns ain't got no business in this blizzardthey just kibitz, here's five shots to visit, blakaBlowin bullet holes sizes of door knockersThree headed for my chest straight, the other twocame a little late, and just barely missed my faceI'm tryin to find a steady place between two carsOne of us gon' either wind up dead, or behind barsShit, I'm just tryin to live, so I can raise my kidand own the world, bone all the girlie girlsThat's when I finally figured outThat's that nigga David Arthur, Sharese baby fatherAnd I didn't even bother to ask no further questionsNo more confessions only suggestionsI think Sam set me up, cause them bullets squeezed upfrom the rear, and Sam was the only nigga thereThen they all peeled out in the rental, aluminumSam in the passenger seat, so I'm assumin themniggaz didn't even get to peepLil' Kim and them, in the backseat, with the heatClips they feelin em, to the top, shit ain't sweetOnce the light turns red, nuff said, that's deadThey fled, and they waved, hot leadIf I aimed up, I'd be on my deathbedSucker move, for that they don't get no propsLil' Kim and them, mad they ain't bust no shotsWe in the block, no Land posters just old postersof gangsta niggaz I see ghosts of gangsta figuresI'm tryin to hold my own when they snatched me out the carTook me in the saloon and said, "Puffy, there you are"Them same cats we chased two blocks had new spotswashin dishes, I guess for goin out like bitchesI smacked em, gave a little speech, to mirthHappiness, cause me and all my peeps got hurtThat night, I said a little prayer, me and JustinThat's when I heard the bustin, yeahChorus