Troublesom Songtext
von The Game

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 niggas, get down or lay down
Like Beanie Mac told niggas 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 to 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 tonight, 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 niggas 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 niggas 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 niggas 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 quote 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 niggas 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