[ 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   Fuck 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      [ 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 motherfuckers 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      [ 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