Lyrics No Love from Oakland - Too $hort
Ain't
no
love
in
Oakland,
bitch
Niggas
always
talkin
bout
'I
love
you'
But
ain't
no
love,
bitch
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
drugs
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,
jewelries,
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
drugs
I
think
back
on
the
way
life
was
Before
rock
cocaine
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,
fuck
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-ass
bank
Junior
high
wasn't
shit
but
a
place
to
fight
Muthafuckas
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
shit
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-ass
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
fuck
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
shit
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
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
shit
Light
the
muthafucka,
take
a
fat-ass
hit
My
fingers
all
sticky
from
the
residue
Don't
fuck
with
me,
I
won't
fuck
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
Suckers
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
muthafucka,
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,
bitch,
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,
bitch
That's
the
place
I
call
home
Where
the
Oakland
City
players
roam
Game
don't
stop,
listen
to
me
Everybody
fuckin
with
the
O.P.D
Slingin
cocaine,
knockin
it
off
Killed
some
nigga,
and
he
never
got
caught
High-speed
chases
everyday
Can't
make
no
money
no
other
way
A
bitch
yelled
"raid!",
that
ain't
true
Cause
you
laid
down,
and
she
fucked
you
Two
days
ago
I
didn't
know
she
existed
But
now
baby
is
just
one
of
my
bitches
I
don't
care
what
you
say
Cause
I
catch
bitches
and
straight
get
pay
You
don't
care
what
I'm
sayin
Punk-ass
square
ain't
got
no
game
Hoes
love
me,
cause
I'm
a
player
They
think
maybe
I
just
might
fuck
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
shit
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
bitches
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
fuck
She
beeped
Mike,
cause
she
got
mad
She
knew
about
the
bitches
her
boyfriend
had
Mike
called
back,
and
he
was
on
his
way
He
just
got
the
pussy
yesterday
You
see,
Mike
ain't
trippin
on
his
girlfriend
Fine
little
bitch,
I
think
her
name
is
Lynn
Mike
paid
the
bills
always
in
cash
And
if
she
ever
got
raw,
he
just
beat
that
ass
It
goes
on
y'all,
so
don't
even
trip
You
gets
no
love
from
East
Oakland,
bitch
Got
sprung,
even
though
it's
not
legal
A
young
black
man
livin
like
rich
people
I
got
this
game
from
a
hard-ass
place
It's
on
the
map,
right
there
in
your
face
I
see
my
people,
all
filled
with
joy
Next
day
they're
killin
homeboys
Can't
say
shit
if
you
sho'
can't
shoot
Cause
muthafuckas
will
smoke
them
boots
You
gets
no
love
from
Oakland,
bitch
You
better
try
to
make
me
rich
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