Troublesome (Cocaine) lyrics

by

The Game


[Verse 1]
I'm too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep
I put five in your Jeep, leave a n*gga sleep
Now you six feet deep over bullsh*t
Got a Mac 10 mouth ain't never pull sh*t
The ghetto know made G's and mo n*ggas
Get down or lay down, like Bennie Mack told n*ggas
Or meet the fo fo, n*gga - I let the guns blow n*gga
I'm a rider - thug live til I die
Black Wall Street behind us - I'm a menace to society
f*ck Cane And O dogg, I got the cane and the o's, dawg
I'm gangsta like Hennesy and Alizay, thug passion
Ride or die til they kill me and put me in thugs mansion
Gang bangin, this California life-style got me heated
They want me burried so I don't leave with out the Desert Eagle
Shoot first, ask questions on way to country jail
Kill a n*gga over my chain, cause I know I'mma make bail
I'm troublesome

[Verse Two]
If I die tonight - bury me a G amongst rap legends
'Cause I spit bullets and rhymes, sixteens and nines
I keep a vest and a weapon, my baby momma got me stressin'
Prayin' on my knees every night, askin' God is there a heaven
So here is my confession to my unborn child
If five shots couldn't drop me but I ain't take 'em and smile
I lost a lot of my n*ggas to gangbangin' and ditches
One finger on the trigger, dog, I live the life of a sinner
These motherf*cker wanna see me doing life in the pen
I'm an Outlaw and the West coast is ridin' again
My competition is none, I'm on the mission with guns
Starring death in the eyes, 20 n*ggas deep, when we ride
My enemies is b*tches - they plottin on my riches
Can't walk in the street with out paparazzi taking pictures
Label me a made n*gga, all the way from Compton to Boston
These n*ggas keep talkin, I leave 'em dead in the coffin
I'm troublesome
[Verse 3]
Money over b*tches is my motto, in the street I'm known for catchin' hollows
Packin' pistols and drinking Belvy and Grabbles out the bottle
No role models, only killas and fiends
Withness my n*ggas strapped with gats, and army fatigues
If it's murder, he wrote it, if I'm lying
Let the devil excel quoted and know that I'm strictly a rap poet
Babtized in my own tears, chastised by my own peers
I'm a product of my childhood years
My mother told me I'm hopeless, my pops wasn't around
One of the reasons why I'm clutchin' a pound
California dreaming, chronic smoke out the Beamer
One hand on the nina, got these hoochie b*tches screamin'
They know that I'm a celebrity, keep the cop-killers in the clip
And watch my back is what my n*ggas keep telling me
Twenty-one years old, no felonies so I ride with the Desert
And pay homage to the hardest rap legends
I'm troublesome
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