Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Troublesome, artist - The Game. Album song West Coast Resurrection, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 03.02.2009
Record label: Get Low
Song language: English
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 |