| I’m sick up in this game
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| I’ll take no secondary shorts &
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| Slam dunk these riddles up in yo' chest like Jordan
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| Menace II Society mad man killer
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| Just call me the East Bay Gangsta
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| Neighborhood drug dealer
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| Quick to make decisions & I’m
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| Quick to get my blast on
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| Do a 187 with this bloody Jason mask on
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| Rollin' up out the cut deeper than Atlantis
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| Tore his chest apart left his heart on the canvas
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| Now I gots mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
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| Rat a tat tat tat came my Tec from the bushes
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| I blast with no heart cause I’m heartless in nine-trey
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| A-K blast on that ass if in my way, gangsta
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| Slangin' 'Cola since the very very start
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| Much love for this game so the trigga gots no heart
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| Ain’t no love trick
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| The trigga gots no heart
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| (gunshot)
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| Release the trigga as I blast on a nigga
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| Nina put a cease on his Timex ticker
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| And uhh playas he can’t give me no love
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| Cause I’m stuck on the corna in the ghetto
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| Slangin' dub sacks
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| And I duck when they fly by
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| Cause Killa Cali' is the state for the drive-by
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| Caps peel from the gangstas in my hood
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| Ya better use that nina
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| Cause that deuce-deuce ain’t no good
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| And umm I’m taking up a hobby
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| Maniac murderin' doin' massacre robbery
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| I’m twenty-two & I’m still slangin' dub sacks
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| I gives the fiend some love but ain’t no love back
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| Much love in this game ain’t no love gangsta
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| 187 is a art cause the trigga gots no heart
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| Ain’t no love trick
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| The trigga gots no heart
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| Ain’t no love trick
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| Me shootin' him up me shootin' him up
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| If he no give my pay
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| Ain’t no love trick
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| The trigga gots no heart
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| & I’ll be damned if I’m broke old
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| Pushin' on a shoppin cart
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| They blast on a friend of me
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| Another sad case of a mistaken identity
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| 12 O' clock & my 'hood's dubbin' pay back
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| I sat & watched them shoot my homey
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| Seen his face crack
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| Uzis spray like Raid on these cockroaches
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| A dropped bomb full of 187 soldiers
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| Doin' dirt cause we dirty when the trigga pull
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| Seventeen in his body left the boy full
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| Of hollow tips so I know he won’t be comin' back
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| I let my hair platt & let my mail stack
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| But my sweet sweet Sunday had to turn tart
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| His posse came & they triggas had no heart
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| Me kill all man say kill all man say
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| Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock
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| Kill all man say kill all man say
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| Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock
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| Kill all man say kill all man say
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| Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock
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| Yeah mon blam! |
| The 187 fact
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| Is back in the house man for nine-trey
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| This here see kill a man wit me Glock
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| BLOW! |
| 187 thousand G |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Trigga Gots no Heart , by - Spice 1. Song from the album The Best of Spice 1, Vol. 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп