Ain't No Love Songtext
von Real Live
Ain't No Love Songtext
(Ain′t love in the heart of the city) --> Bobby Bland
[ Verse 1 - Larry-O ]
Gun claps erupt from the back alley way
The heat in the streets stress a nigga every day
Cops raid blocks like scenes from Red Dawn
The American Dream in the ghetto is more gall
I knew this kid cold out of luck
No loot or nothing, you know that other fuck-up
Well, if I ain't got, I′ma take
I got a burner in your face, son, ain't no escape
From the mental prison that I'm in
I want to break out but I′m committin mad sins
We got the city under siege, how
Gang-land style, juveniles running wild
Niggaz come, niggaz go, niggaz die
My man could′ve been a ball-player but he gettin' high
It′s dangerous out here, son
'Cause yo, the average motherfucker′s living under the gun
[ Verse 2 - Larry-O ]
My peoples in the streets is dying, son
Coke is a commodity and so is the gun
It's time to cultivate a plan that′s guaranteed to hit
Flips some cook-up, stack a 100 thou and quit
My 9 to 5 ain't saying shit
Niggaz' joints are too mean and hoes are too thick
So now I gotta locate my click
And rise to the top till the cream turn thick
I′m working with rocks, lives are stopped
Rebels breaking pebbles and mobilizing all blocks
Undercover Rockefellas get paid
Dope lines be long, yo, the loot be minute-made
It′s ill when you think about the plot
When playing in the game is designed to get us knocked
What's my attitude when I see a jake drop
Buck, buck, buck and you don′t stop
[ Verse 3 - Larry-O ]
No turning back now, progression can't stop
It′s like everytime I look up my neck be on the chopping block
A kid got murdered for a ring
Beef throughout the street be like a everyday thing
A warzone with gunfire sounds
We gunnin each other down like motherfucking killer clowns
Living conditions is out of order
A shorty slaughtered her daughter 'cause she couldn′t support her
Yo, niggaz be making big bets
Clowns with short paper get killed for big debts
And little shorties on cellular phones
Knots with rubber-bands, rims dipped in chrome
How long does the good shit last?
Niggaz that die young be niggaz that live fast
I dropped a gem and hit you off with the deal
I only live one way and that's motherfucking real
[ Verse 1 - Larry-O ]
Gun claps erupt from the back alley way
The heat in the streets stress a nigga every day
Cops raid blocks like scenes from Red Dawn
The American Dream in the ghetto is more gall
I knew this kid cold out of luck
No loot or nothing, you know that other fuck-up
Well, if I ain't got, I′ma take
I got a burner in your face, son, ain't no escape
From the mental prison that I'm in
I want to break out but I′m committin mad sins
We got the city under siege, how
Gang-land style, juveniles running wild
Niggaz come, niggaz go, niggaz die
My man could′ve been a ball-player but he gettin' high
It′s dangerous out here, son
'Cause yo, the average motherfucker′s living under the gun
[ Verse 2 - Larry-O ]
My peoples in the streets is dying, son
Coke is a commodity and so is the gun
It's time to cultivate a plan that′s guaranteed to hit
Flips some cook-up, stack a 100 thou and quit
My 9 to 5 ain't saying shit
Niggaz' joints are too mean and hoes are too thick
So now I gotta locate my click
And rise to the top till the cream turn thick
I′m working with rocks, lives are stopped
Rebels breaking pebbles and mobilizing all blocks
Undercover Rockefellas get paid
Dope lines be long, yo, the loot be minute-made
It′s ill when you think about the plot
When playing in the game is designed to get us knocked
What's my attitude when I see a jake drop
Buck, buck, buck and you don′t stop
[ Verse 3 - Larry-O ]
No turning back now, progression can't stop
It′s like everytime I look up my neck be on the chopping block
A kid got murdered for a ring
Beef throughout the street be like a everyday thing
A warzone with gunfire sounds
We gunnin each other down like motherfucking killer clowns
Living conditions is out of order
A shorty slaughtered her daughter 'cause she couldn′t support her
Yo, niggaz be making big bets
Clowns with short paper get killed for big debts
And little shorties on cellular phones
Knots with rubber-bands, rims dipped in chrome
How long does the good shit last?
Niggaz that die young be niggaz that live fast
I dropped a gem and hit you off with the deal
I only live one way and that's motherfucking real
Writer(s): Michael Alan Price, Dan Walsh, Kevin M. Hansford, Laurence Wright Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com