[Verse 1]

Once upon a time, not long ago

When gangstas rocked waves, sold dope and sniffed blow

There was a young G by the name of Shyne Poe

Puttin' it down, cuttin' it up and cookin' it now

It's been a lotta dick ridin', for lack of a better word

Speculations on the guns I hold underneath my furs

Similarities in my voice, nigga, check the words

I'm livin', went to the doors that pitch birds from the curb

Dodgin' and dippin' the narcs

It's the young Frank Matthews, the rap version

Touch my trap on my smack

The gats burstin', that's certain

Leave ya face and ya chest and ya back jerkin'

(Uh) Y’all got me fucked up like

My desert eagle and my sig don't bust right

Like my guns is racin', motherfucker, don't you know I

Make ya heart stop and ya body start shakin'

Now you know the bottom line of this rhyme crime

25 to life plus 9

[Hook 2X]

Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fan

Take it like a man or snitch like a bitch

Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fan

Pray to God, go hard or lay up in the morgue

[Verse 2]

Evil grin, dead eyes, walkin' wit' a bop, mobster

Best way to describe my posture

In this world of sin I'm as wicked as they come

Moonlightin' as a rapper, get this ticket and I'm done

Ain't enough money here, I'd rather be in the tropics

Wit’ Corsicans, where narcotics is the only topic

Persian rocks and things, the man that made of snow

Tiger paw, and every other form of raw

Since a teen, been handlin', nigga been scramblin'

Bettin' on money in Vegas, gamblin'

Desert in the abdomen, pissy drunk, stylin', staggerin'

More than you can imagine and (Uh)

Thoughts random and, runnin' through my mind

Like who's the best MC's - Biggie, Jay-Z, and Shyne

Demented as a youngin', Alpo second comin'

Evil thoughts runnin' through my cerebellum

Shyne Poe, what the fuck you gon' tell 'em?

All you niggas that wanna be fly

My gun shots'll propell 'em

Leave 'em somewhere smellin', repellin'

Closed caskets for you fuckin' bastards, c'mon

[Hook 2X]

Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fan

Take it like a man or snitch like a bitch

Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fan

Pray to God, go hard, or lay up in the morgue

[Verse 3]

Only the strong survive, weak niggas bleed

And get found, wit they fuckin' face down

Numb from the waist down

I done been to hell and back

Twice and still ain't crack

Stared death in the eyes and never blinked

Headshots rip through my mink

Went to war wit the realest killers

Killed friends over jealousy and envy

My heart's empty

Behind the wheel of my Bentley

Coked up, feelin’ invincible

'Bout to take over the world, I can't be stopped

Not the feds or the fuckin' cops

Not even 17 shots can put a end to this terror

I'ma live forever, 'cause gangstas don't break

We just get plastic surgery and relocate

To another state, or island, smilin'

Money pilin’, wildin'

Yo Puff, overdub them fuckin' violins

(Uh) This shit is bigger than Nino, ask Oliver North

Kill you then use your corpse to transport horse

Leave ya brains hangin' from ya fuckin' car window

Any nigga snitchin', givin' info

Since my mother stomach, coke and liquor was the mixture

Better be prepared when we hit ya

[Hook 2X] - repeat to fade

Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fan

Take it like a man or snitch like a bitch

Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fan

Pray to God, go hard or lay up in the morgue