Cocaine Lyrics

The Game - Cocaine Lyrics

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Cocaine Lyrics

[ 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



[ 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



[ 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