Cocaine Lyrics - Singles - Game

(Verse One) 

I'm too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep 

I put five in ya, jeep - leave a nigga sleep 

Now you six feet deep over bullshit 

Got a Mac 10 mouth ain't never pull shit 

The ghetto dont make G's and mo niggaz 

Get down or lay down, like Bennie Mack told niggaz 

Or meet the fo fo, nigga - I let the guns blow nigga 

I'm a rider - thug live til I die 

Black Wall Street behind us - I'm a menace to society 

F**k 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 county jail 

Kill a nigga over my chain, 'cause I know I'ma make bail 

I'm troublesome 

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(Verse Two) 

If I die tonight - bury me a G, amongsts 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 niggaz to gang bangin and ditches 

One finger on the trigger, dawg, I live the life of a sinner 

These motherf**kers wanna see me doing life in the pen 

I'm a outlaw and the westcoast is ridin again 

My competition is none, I'm on the mission with guns 

Starring death in the eyes, 20 niggaz deep, when we ride 

My enemies is bitches - they plottin on my riches 

Can't walk in the street with out paparazzi taking pictures 

Label me a made nigga, all the way from Compton to Boston 

These niggaz keep talkin, I leave 'em dead in the coffin 

I'm troublesome 

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(Verse Three) 

Money over bitches is my motto, in the street I'n known for catchin hollo's 

Packing pistols and drinking belvy and Grey Goose out the bottle 

No role models, only killas and fiends 

Withness my niggaz 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, 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 a pound 

California dreaming, chronic smoke out the beamer 

One hand on the nina, scheeming got these hoochie bitches screaming 

They know that I'm a celeberty - keep the cop-killers in the clip 

And watch my back is what my niggaz 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