[Verse One]
I'm too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep
I put five in ya, G - leave a ^!$$% sleep

Now you six feet deep over bull%#@!
Got a Mac 10 mouth ain't never pull %#@!
The ghetto know made G's and mo ^!$$%z

Get down or lay down, like Bennie Mack told ^!$$%z
Or meet the fo fo, ^!$$% - I let the guns blow ^!$$%
I'm a rider - thug live til I die

Black Wall Street behind us - I'm a menace to society
$#&@ 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 ^!$$% over my chain, 'cause I know I'ma 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 ^!$$%z to gang bangin and ditches

One finger on the trigger, dawg, I live the life of a sinner
These mother$#&@er 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 ^!$$%z deep, when we ride
My enemies is (*##$es - they plottin on my riches

Can't walk in the street with out paparazzi taking pictures
Label me a made ^!$$%, all the way from Compton to Boston
These ^!$$%z keep talkin, I leave 'em dead in the coffin

I'm troublesome

[Verse Three]

Money over (*##$es is my motto, in the street I'n known for catchin hollo's
Packing pistols and drinking (belvy) and grabbles out the bottle
No roll models, only killas and fiends

Withness my ^!$$%z strapped with gats, an army for teens
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, got these hoochie (*##$es screaming

They know that I'm a celeberty - keep the cop-killers in the clip
And watch my back is what my ^!$$%z 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