Trigga Gots No Heart Lyrics - Spice 1

The trigga gots no heart (the trigga a trigga) 

The trigga gots no heart (the trigga a trigga) 

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 II 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 

Rat a tat tat tat came my Tec from the bushes 

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

A-K blast on that ass if in my way, gangsta 

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 

(gunshot) 

Release the trigga as I blast on a nigga 

Nina put a cease on his Timex ticker 

And uh playas he can't give me no love 

'cause I'm stuck on the corna 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 gangstas in my hood 

Ya better use that Nina 

'cause that deuce-deuce ain't no good 

And um I'm taking 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 gangsta 

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 

Ain't no love trick 

Me shootin' him up me shootin' him up 

If he no give my 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's dubbin' pay back 

I sat and watched them shoot my homey 

Seen his face crack 

Uzis 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 platt and let my mail stack 

But my sweet sweet Sunday had to turn tart 

His posse came and they triggas had no heart 

Me kill all man say kill all man say 

Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock 

Kill all man say kill all man say 

Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock 

Kill all man say kill all man say 

Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me Glock Glock 

Yeah mon blam! The 187 fact 

Is back in the house man for nine-trey 

This here see kill a man with me Glock 

BLOW! 187 thousand G