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nigga gots no heart (just ride street) - spice 1 lyrics

[intro]
a n*gga gots no heart (a n*gga, a n*gga)
a n*gga gots no heart (a n*gga, a n*gga)

[verse 1]
i’m sick up in this game, i’ll take no motherf*ckin’ shorts, and
slam dunk these bullets up in yo’ ass like jordan
menace ii society, motherf*ckin’ k!ller
just call me the east bay gangsta, i’m your real*ass n*gga
quick to make decisions, and i’m quick to get my blast on
do a 187 with this motherf*ckin’ mask on
rollin’ up out the cut, deeper than atlantis
tore his chest apart, left his heart on the canvas
now i gots more mail 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
ak blast on that ass, if in my way, n*gga
slangin’ ‘cola sincе the very, very start
much lovе for this game, so a n*gga gots no heart

[chorus]
ain’t no love, b*tch (a n*gga)
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch (a n*gga)
a n*gga gots no heart
*gunshot*
[verse 2]
release the trigger, as i blast on a n*gga
nina put a cease on his timex ticker, and the
prayers he can give, mean no love
’cause i’m stuck on the corner, in the ghetto slangin’ dub sacks
and i duck when they fly by
’cause k!lla*cali’ is the state for the drive*by
caps peeled from the gangsters in my hood
you better use that nina
’cause that deuce*deuce ain’t no good, and, uhm i’m takin’ up a hobby
murderin’ motherf*ckers, and massacre robbery
i’m twenty*two, and 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, n*gga
187 is a art, ’cause a n*gga gots no heart

[chorus]
(a n*gga, a n*gga)
ain’t no love, b*tch
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch (a n*gga, a n*gga)
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch
me shootin’ ’em up, me shootin’ ’em up
if he don’t give me my pay*ah (my pay*ah)
ain’t no love, b*tch
me shootin’ ’em up, me shootin’ ’em up
if he don’t give me my pay*ah (my pay*ah)
ain’t no love, b*tch
[verse 3]
a n*gga gots no heart
and i’ll be d*mned if i’m broke, old, pushin’ on a shoppin’ cart
they blast on a friend of me
another sad case of a mistaken identity
12 o’clock in my hood, it’s the big payback
i sat and watched them shoot my n*gga, seen his face crack
uzi’s spray like raid on these c*ckroaches
a dropped bomb, full of 187 soldiers
doin’ dirt, ’cause we dirty when the trigger pull
seventeen up in that n*gga, left his body full
of hollow tips, so i know he won’t be comin’ back
i let my mail stack, and let my hair platt
but my sweet, sweet son, they had to turn tart
his posse came, and them n*ggas had no heart

[outro]
ain’t no love, b*tch
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch
a n*gga gots no heart
ain’t no love, b*tch
a n*gga gots—

- spice 1 lyrics

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