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A nigga gots no heart (a nigga a nigga) |
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<repeat> |
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Verse 1 |
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I'm sick up in this game |
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I'll take no muthafuckin' shorts & |
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Slam dunk these riddles up in yo' ass like Jordan |
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Menace II Society muthafuckin' killer |
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Just call me the East Bay Gangsta |
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I'm yo' real ass nigga |
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Quick to make decisions & I'm |
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Quick to get my blast on |
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Do a 187 with this muthafuckin' mask on |
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Rollin' up out the cut deeper than Atlantis |
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Tore his chest apart left his heart on the canvas |
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Now I gots mo' mayo than the rest of the pushers |
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Rat a tat tat tat came my Tec from the bushes |
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I blast with no heart 'cause I'm heartless in nine-trey |
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A-K blast on that ass if in my way, nigga |
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Slangin' 'Cola since the very very start |
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Much love for this game so a nigga gots no heart |
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Ain't no love bitch |
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A nigga gots no heart |
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<repeat> |
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(gunshot) |
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Verse 2 |
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Release the trigga as I blast on a nigga |
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Nina put a cease on his Timex ticker |
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And uhh playas he can't give me no love |
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'cause I'm stuck on the corna in the ghetto |
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Slangin' dub sacks |
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And I duck when they fly by |
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'cause Killa Cali' is the state for the drive-by |
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Caps peel from the gangstas in my hood |
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Ya better use that nina |
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'cause that deuce-deuce ain't no good |
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And umm I'm taking up a hobby |
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Murdering muthafuckas & massacre robbery |
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I'm twenty-two & I'm still slangin' dub sacks |
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I gives the fiend some love but ain't no love back |
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Much love in this game ain't no love nigga |
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187 is a art 'cause a nigga gots no heart |
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Ain't no love bitch |
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A nigga gots no heart |
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Ain't no love bitch |
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Me shootin' him up me shootin' him up |
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If he no give my pay |
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Ain't no love bitch |
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<repeat> |
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Verse 3 |
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A nigga gots no heart |
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& I'll be damned if I'm broke old |
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Pushin' on a shoppin cart |
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They blast on a friend of me |
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Another sad case of a mistaken identity |
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12 O' clock & my 'hood's dubbin' pay back |
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I sat & watched them shoot my nigga |
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Seen his face crack |
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Uzis spray like Raid on these cockroaches |
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A dropped bomb full of 187 soldiers |
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Doin' dirt 'cause we dirty when the trigga pull |
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Seventeen up in that nigga left his body full |
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Of hollow tips so I know he won't be comin' back |
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I let my mail stack & let my hair platt |
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But my sweet sweet Sunday had to turn tart |
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His posse came & them niggas had no heart |
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Me kill all man say kill all man say |
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Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock |
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Kill all man say kill all man say |
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Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock |
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Kill all man say kill all man say |
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Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock |
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Yeah mon blam! The 187 fact man |
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Comin' at yo' ass wit no love |
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Blam! Fuck ya man Pussyclot man |
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187 thousand G |
