Lyrics Troublesome - The Game

Troublesome

I’m too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep
I put five in your Jeep, leave a nigga sleep
Now you six feet deep over bullshit
Got a mac-10 mouth, ain’t never pull shit
The ghetto don’t make G’s, it mold niggaz, get down or lay down
like Beanie Mac told niggaz or meet the fo'-fo' nigga
I let them guns blow, nigga I’m a rider
Thug Life 'til I die, Black Wall Street behind us
I’m a «Menace II Society,"fuck Caine and O-Dog
I got the 'caine and the O’s, dawg
I’m gangsta like Hennessy and Alize, Thug Passion
Ride or die 'til they kill me or put me in «Thugz Mansion»
Gangbangin, this California lifestyle got me heated
They want me buried, so I don’t leave without the Desert Eagle
Shoot first, ask questions on my way to county jail
Kill a nigga over my chain cause I know I’ma make bail
I’m troublesome
«If I Die Tonite" — «Bury Me a G"amongst rap legends
Cause I spit bullets in rhymes, 16's and 9's
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
Them five shots couldn’t drop me, but I ain’t take 'em and smile
I lost a lot of my niggaz to gangbangin and digits
One figure on the trigger dawg I live the life of a sinner
These motherfuckers wanna see me doin life in the pen
I’m a Outlaw, and the West coast is ridin again
My competition is none, I’m on a mission with guns
Starin death in the eyes, 20 niggaz deep when we ride
My enemies is bitches, they plottin on my riches
Can’t walk in the streets without the paparazzi takin pictures
Label me a made nigga, all the way from Compton to Boston
These niggaz keep talkin I leave 'em dead in a coffin
I’m troublesome
Money over bitches is my motto in the streets I’m known for catchin hollows
Packin pistols and drinkin Belve and Grey Goose out the bottle
No role models, only killers and fiends
Witness my nigga strapped with gats and army fatigues
If it’s murder he wrote it, if I’m lyin let the XXL «e it
And know that I’m strictly a rap poet
Baptized in my own tears, chastized 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 the pound
California dreamin, chronic smoke out the beamer
One hand on the nina schemin got these hooptie bitches screamin
They know that I’m celebrity, keep them cop killers in the clip
And watch my back is what my niggaz keep tellin me
21 years old, no felonies, so I ride with the Desert
And pay homage to the hardest rap legend
I’m troublesome