Too $hort (too Short) - No Love from Oakland lyrics

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Too $hort (too Short) - No Love from Oakland lyrics

Ain't no love in oakland, b**h n***as always talkin bout 'i love you' But ain't no love, b**h [ verse 1 ] Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by john the pope I gotta be a pimp or sellin dope Cause in this town, it's goin on And brothers doin that can't live too long So what's my option, do it or not Break a hoe, sell a ki, just don't get caught Cause if I do, I'm goin to jail On a one-way ticket to a prison cell So why commit the crime? don't ask me Went to school everyday, and I still can't read I count money like a champ, now ask me Why everyday does the task force jack me The story's been told one million times About a boy growin up to a life of crime I heard it before, you heard it too But now, homeboy, it's just me and you You see, people try to call us filthy trash Even though we live better and make mo' cash Than they do, I'm not a no-good thug Standin on the corner sellin d** And just remember, this ain't multiple choice Without a college degree you only got your voice You gotta talk for yours, or get nothin at all This ain't the nba, I ain't havin a ball Every day is a trip, but I ain't trippin Watch my back and don't start slippin Money won't talk, but it looks right back Everytime I dip into my stack I'm buyin cars, j**elries, and mobile phones Things I couldn't get with a high school diploma It's alright, cause I just help myself You should know, cause I can't do nothin else And you better watch out for the day When you lock me up and throw that key away Cause I'll be back on parole Ain't changed nothing, cause I'm ready to roll I go to school now, but just to front Still servin dopefiends what they want Count 5 to 10, 10 to 20 And I just keep on makin money I hope you don't think my story's amazin I tell it to a kid in the ghetto, it won't faze him So many blackmen die for d** I think back on the way life was Before rock c**aine started runnin thangs And drive-by shootings was a normal thang Before brothers bought benzes, used to drive mustangs 12 years later, and I'm still in the game All my life all I wanted was a few hoes If I was pimpin or slingin at the liquor sto' Ain't nothin but street life, f** that school All the squares up there ain't even cool Plus my partners at the house sell coke all day Hit the mall like players, spendin fat-a** bank Junior high wasn't sh** but a place to fight Muthaf**as wasn't learnin how to read and write I'm just walkin down the street all alone High as hell, my mind is gone I'm thinkin bout some brand-new sh** and I'm broke I know I be a fiend if I smoke that coke But if I go back to school and get educated Be a old-a** man before I graduated So what should I do, I can't even cope I guess I'll get a sack and start slingin dope I went to my homie, said, give me the sack He disappeared quick, and he came right back He said, you owe me a g, I give you a week You f** up my money, don't cop no plead Cause in the oak ain't no love, $hort I knew right then I couldn't sell that coke When I was young, it was hard to tell If I grow up and be rich as hell See, I was cool I knew all the sh** Big bank on my finger tips But I never had a big bank, not back then I kicked back and watched all my friends Make big money, right in my face And if you ever crossed them, they be on your case You go under, six feet underground You gets no love from the oaktown [ verse 2 ] I drive my top everyday like a movie star Drive around all night in old towed up cars And if you stop me, ain't no tellin what you find in my trunk Gotta live like this, cause I ain't no punk So break down the dank and roll up that sh** Light the muthaf**a, take a fat-a** hit My fingers all sticky from the residue Don't f** with me, I won't f** with you Cause life is only give and take In the town where the strong control the fake The wild wild west, that's the place s**ers take a bite, and don't even taste The california lifestyle that I live Mack these hoes every chance I get Like a drop sl, three times black I'm a pimp, a player and I been known to mack I'm a muthaf**a, I broke your heart She gave it all to me, and I tore it apart Talked about love right to the end But I broke your heart and, b**h, I do it again So young and tender, also fine Tryin to get short dog all the time I take what I want, you can keep the rest You gets no love from east oakland, b**h That's the place I call home Where the oakland city players roam Game don't stop, listen to me Everybody f**in with the o.p.d. Slingin c**aine, knockin it off k**ed some n***a, and he never got caught High-speed chases everyday Can't make no money no other way A b**h yelled raid!, that ain't true Cause you laid down, and she f**ed you Two days ago I didn't know she existed But now baby is just one of my b**hes I don't care what you say Cause I catch b**hes and straight get pay You don't care what I'm sayin Punk-a** square ain't got no game Hoes love me, cause I'm a player They think maybe I just might f** em later I keep mackin though, I don't work for free To be a true hoe you gotta pay me I spend endless days and endless nights Plottin this sh** to keep my money right I build stages in my mind, and it's all an act All I'm tryin to do is keep my pockets fat With this pimp game, and these funky beats Now here's a little story from the oakland streets You see, tania had a boyfriend, his name was jack Always had the b**hes on their backs Jack told tania, I love you so But jack's a mack, he's got several hoes One day she beeped him to say what's up He didn't call back, cause she was only out to f** She beeped mike, cause she got mad She knew about the b**hes her boyfriend had Mike called back, and he was on his way He just got the p**y yesterday You see, mike ain't trippin on his girlfriend Fine little b**h, I think her name is lynn Mike paid the bills always in cash And if she ever got raw, he just beat that a** It goes on y'all, so don't even trip You gets no love from east oakland, b**h Got sprung, even though it's not legal A young black man livin like rich people I got this game from a hard-a** place It's on the map, right there in your face I see my people, all filled with joy Next day they're k**in homeboys Can't say sh** if you sho' can't shoot Cause muthaf**as will smoke them boots You gets no love from oakland, b**h You better try to make me rich