***** Gots No Heart

A ****** gots no heart (a ****** a ******)

<repeat>

Verse 1

I'm sick up in this game

I'll take no mutha******' shorts &

Slam dunk these riddles up in yo' ass like Jordan

Menace II Society mutha******' killer

Just call me the East Bay Gangsta

I'm yo' real ass ******

Quick to make decisions & I'm

Quick to get my blast on

Do a 187 with this mutha******' mask on

Rollin' up out the cut deeper than Atlantis

Tore his chest apart left his heart on the canvas

Now I gots mo' mayo than the rest of the pushers

Rat a tat tat tat came my Tec from the bushes

I blast with no heart 'cause I'm heartless in nine-trey

A-K blast on that ass if in my way, ******

Slangin' 'Cola since the very very start

Much love for this game so a ****** gots no heart

Ain't no love ******

A ****** gots no heart

<repeat>

(gunshot)

Verse 2

Release the trigga as I blast on a ******

Nina put a cease on his Timex ticker

And uhh playas he can't give me no love

'cause I'm stuck on the corna in the ghetto

Slangin' dub sacks

And I duck when they fly by

'cause Killa Cali' is the state for the drive-by

Caps peel from the gangstas in my hood

Ya better use that nina

'cause that deuce-deuce ain't no good

And umm I'm taking up a hobby

Murdering mutha******as & massacre robbery

I'm twenty-two & I'm still slangin' dub sacks

I gives the fiend some love but ain't no love back

Much love in this game ain't no love ******

187 is a art 'cause a ****** gots no heart

Ain't no love ******

A ****** gots no heart

Ain't no love ******

Me shootin' him up me shootin' him up

If he no give my pay

Ain't no love ******

<repeat>

Verse 3

A ****** gots no heart

& I'll be damned if I'm broke old

Pu******n' on a shoppin cart

They blast on a friend of me

Another sad case of a mistaken identity

12 O' clock & my 'hood's dubbin' pay back

I sat & watched them shoot my ******

Seen his face crack

Uzis spray like Raid on these ****roaches

A dropped bomb full of 187 soldiers

Doin' dirt 'cause we dirty when the trigga pull

Seventeen up in that ****** left his body full

Of hollow tips so I know he won't be comin' back

I let my mail stack & let my hair platt

But my sweet sweet Sunday had to turn tart

His posse came & them ******s had no heart

Me kill all man say kill all man say

Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock

Kill all man say kill all man say

Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock

Kill all man say kill all man say

Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock

Yeah mon blam! The 187 fact man

Comin' at yo' ass wit no love

Blam! ****** ya man ******clot man

187 thousand G