Ain't No Love

Yeah, this is another story of famous dogs Where the dog that don't keep it real is a bitch These are rappin' dogs, soldier dogs Harmonic dogs House dogs, street dogs Dogs of the world unite.. (Paris) Bye, bye shitty luck, skinny ducats High side, many bucks, titty fuckin' Smash on these Corleones, snatchin' fetti Westside niggas roam, but y'all ain't ready Every city, every borough, every town Every ghetto comin' through, we touchin' down When I spit they all scatter, battle cry Worldwide, it don't matter - who wanna ride? Return of the street pros, kill our foes Expose what you need to know, Guerrilla flows Still on that same shit, same time Still from that same clique, same side Real niggas ain't impressed by the stories they bring When it's all said and done y'all remember my name Fuck a Corleone, nigga, we grown, now what you sayin'? It's all about the chedda but beware what you claimin' (Kam) Y'all niggas really wanna see us dead, huh? We too militant Always on that pro-black crackajack killin' shit I picked up a few cuts, scrapes and raw abrasions Collectin' my cheese and checkin' these caucasians Cause when you killin' niggas on a record then you goin' places But talk about killin' these crackas, you racist, that's why Crackas and flies, I do despise The more I see these crackas, the more I like flies Look into my eyes before I pull this trigger, I don't know what's worse A black cracka or a white nigga, who should I do first? I write a verse an' have 'em runnin' scared, turnin' red, protestin' I just be blastin', don't be askin' no questions, holmes 'Till the smoke clear, cause folks here know The difference between a G and some Hollywierdo What you in fear fo'? Your life or your money? All these coward-ass fake thugs, a/k/a/ Bugs Bunnies (Break) Livin' and strivin' and diggin' the skin he's in (8x) (Paris) So I fiend for the days when the funk was king 'Fore these pop sluts shitted on my video screen 'Fore these Bow Wow Wow Yippee Yos and hoes Before niggas street clothes turned to platinum and gold Before videos made 'em all fantasy macks 'Fore blingin' we was singin' what it mean to be black Now these bitchy bitchy boy bands causin' a fuss And every nigga rappin' thinkin' thuggin' is us I'm bustin' pro-black, comin' with rough raps, I catch these Hollywood shuffles by they motherfuckin' ruffles And rough 'em up, see, and fuck them tricks 'Comin' phony, all them cowards know is blingin' and Kris But this poolside fantasy lovin'-ass wannabe Record label Superfly nigga, eat shit and die State-of-mind mentality is blind to me See I'd die 'fore I live on my knees, believe.. (Break) You know it ain't no love, no love for these You know it ain't no love, no love for these You know it ain't no love, no love for these Don't you know it ain't no...(repeat 'till fade)