Trigga Gots No Heart

The trigga gots no heart (The trigger, the trigger)

The trigga gots no heart (The trigger, the trigger)

I'm sick up in this game, I'll take no secondary shorts

And slam dunk these riddles up in yo' chest like Jordan

Menace to society, mad man killer

Just call me the East Bay Gangsta, neighborhood drug dealer

Quick to make decisions and I'm quick to get my blast on

Do a 187 with this bloody Jason 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

Rata-tat, tat-tat, came my Tech from the bushes

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

AK blast on that ass if in my way, gangster

Slangin' cola since the very very start

Much love for this game so the trigga gots no heart

(Ain't no love trick)

The trigga gots no heart

(Ain't no love trick)

The trigga gots no heart

Release the trigger as I turn off the ****

Nina put a cease on his Timex ticker

And the, players he can't give me no love

'Cause I'm stuck on the corner 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 gangsters in my hood

Ya better use that Nina

'Cause that Deuce-Deuce ain't no good

And uhm, I'm takin' up a hobby

Maniac murderin', doin' 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 gangster

187 is a art 'cause the trigga gots no heart

(Ain't no love trick)

The trigga gots no heart

(Ain't no love trick)

(Me shootin' him up, me shootin' him up if he no give my pay, my pay)

Ain't no love trick

(Me shootin' him up, me shootin' him up if he no give my pay, pay)

Ain't no love trick

The trigga gots no heart

And I'll be damned 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 and my hood is dubbin' pay back

I sat and watched them shoot my homey, seen his face crack

Uzi's spray like Raid on these cockroaches

A dropped bomb full of 187 soldiers

Doin' dirt cause we dirty when the trigga pull

Seventeen in his body left the boy full

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

I let my hair plait and let my mail stack

But my sweet, sweet Sunday had to turn tart

His posse came and they triggers had no heart

Me kill all man say, kill all man say

Kill 'em man, kill 'em man with me Glock, Glock!

Me kill all man say, kill all man say

Kill 'em man, kill 'em man with me Glock, Glock!

Me kill all man say, kill all man say

Kill 'em man, kill 'em man with me Glock, Glock!

Me kill all man say, kill all man say

Kill 'em man, kill 'em man with me Glock, Glock!

Yeah man, blam!

The 187 fact is back in the house man for nine-trey

Me say me kill a man wit me Glock (Blow!)

187 Thousand G