No Heart No Love Lyrics (feat. Project Pat)

{Young Chop on the beat!}

(Mafia, mafia... mafia, mafia...)
Once again, you do wrong, wrong will follow (always, always)
That's real shit, real spit nigga, you know the business (what's that nigga?)

The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love {*4X*}
What ya sayin nigga? What ya sayin nigga?
What ya sayin nigga? Naw, what ya sayin nigga?
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love {*2X*}

Yea, I tell you one time, don't play with my bread (nope), nigga, you do, they gon' find yo ass dead (yup)
Body in trunk, hands tied to yo legs, (yup), tape on yo mouth, a hole in yo head (BLUU!)
Fronted some dope, now the nigga in debt, (ho!), how you gon' pay that? Nigga don't sweat (mm-hmm)
Goons on deck - you know what's next (what), send 'em to yo house, now it's time to collect, (get it)
Now you in a box, nigga - cause and effect (BITCH!)
Hollow points and buckshots, all in yo neck (BITCH!)
Told ya 'bout playin' with a nigga like that (DON'T PLAY!)
Now yo fam gon' visit you, payin' they respects (you gone)
Tell ya one time, don't play with my money, sold all my dope, now you run around stuntin' (mmh)
All in the mall, spendin' money on ya woman, (TRICK!), nigga must think he don't owe me nothin' (TRICK!)
Nigga must think I forgot about mine, he pressed 'ignore' when I called his line (hell naw)
I'mma play it cool like everythin' fine, catch him comin' home, lay him down with the 9

Yo, bang bang, shoot 'em up, Memphis niggas don't give a fuck (never)
Run up on ya in broad day, pull them guns out, shoot ya up
Loose ya life over light green, (uh huh), kill a nigga over soft white (uh huh)
You ain't from here, don't come here (nope), and if you do, better walk light (light!)
Out here is a +Nightmare+ (mare), homicides, not Freddy Krueger (krueger)
Niggas ain't got shit to lose (lose), shoot it out like a Western movie
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love (no love!)
These niggas ain't wearin' no mask and these niggas ain't wearin' no glove (no glove!)
These niggas don't, fight no mo', fuck takin' the high road
Lil' homie 'bout 16, bust a gun with his eyes closed
Fuck with all that gangsta talk, know you ain't bout that life
Pull that heater on yo ass, bet you come up off that ice (ho!)

(North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis
North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis ...)

Fifty shots clear this bitch out like a tornado
Two choppas who identical - call 'em Cain and Abel
Very fatal, dippin' in stash like a soup ladle
Rolled up on him, shot him in his head - busted tomato
You niggas get high on this shit like the ho, ya nuts (okay, okay, okay)
Shotgun blast to ya stomach, bitch, on ya guts (for real)
You say you gang affiliated, extra clips tough (chhk-chhk)
And when the bullets get to poppin', they don't give no fucks (fucks)
Money rules everything, and we got the cash,
Pay yo homies one bag to blow up yo ass (pow pow)
Kidnap ya from ya residence, no mask no lie
F.B.I. found ya body in Project dumpster, BFI (ooooh, ooooh)

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these lyrics are submitted by musixmatch2

Songwriter(s): Tyree Lamar Pittman
Copyright: Young Chop Publishing, WB Music Corp.
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