Buddha Monk City Without A Heart lyrics

 
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City Without A Heart by Buddha Monk City Without A Heart lyrics [Chorus x2: sample (Menace)] Livin in the city... (The siren speaks) Livin in the city... (When the heat hit the streets) Livin in the city... without a heart (What you want beef? You're too short to talk down to me) [Intro: Grime] OK... ch-yea, come on... Buddha Monk... Brooklyn Chronicles... get in here! Grime... [Grime:] Nigga, you don't know my name Murderin y'all cats got me my fame Searchin for more cash, go find them lames Niggaz'll smoke bitch-ass and their dames I'm comin in yo' spot to wreck yo' show After I drop, collect my dough Grime never fall, I just fall back Watch 'em niggaz that ball and take all that You roll with clicks, you free agent Fuck what you got, look what I spent To my niggaz in North Cackalack (uh-huh) To the G in the Tek and smack (uh-huh) If you see a fat ass in the club tonight Nigga tell me is you smackin that? (uh-huh) Grime like the city, I never sleep All those that try me, countin sheep [Chorus x2] [Interlude: Ruggs McGusto] What? It's Ruggso baby Yo it's... Gusto knows this... what? I ain't quittin shit, yo... [Ruggs McGusto:] When shit hits the fan, I might just hit and you and your man And all them onion-head fuckas you call ya fam You caught Ruggs at a bad time, soldiers die And you know you laughin from Heaven watchin y'all get fried You've got the audacity to try to pull somethin dastardly Talk murder then let me leave without blastin The never of you, but now I'm herbin you left and right Every minute, every hour, everyday, every night You ain't built for the beef, dog, fall back, forfeit Cause ya next stop's the crossroads and talkin awkward Black suits, big boots, coffins and people with flowers You like to front with ya man but for real you a coward Your first artist is the next nigga after him Hurricane Ruggs, you have to feel the wrath of him And I don't discuss you niggaz cause I don't trust you niggaz I'm about dollars, mother made, mothafuck you niggaz, what? [Chorus x2] [Interlude: G-Note$] Yeah... yo it's G-Note$, Team Gunbook [G-Note$:] Yo it's G and I be gritty, Many Men wanna kill me like 50 It's Corner Luv in the city, no money, you feel shitty I feel So Fresh and So Clean, get with me, ride with me, vibe with me It's plenty schemes, and we could scheme on pennies We could go in it with jeans and feed our team I'm a Gunbook crook, ain't nothin to shook Over Kenny and other marksmen like Chilli Niggaz envy, so you could catch G up in Envy with the semi Doin the club dirty, these thugs ain't friendly Or pretty, what you thought? That thought was silly They're hearing Note$ got stuck, feel me? Niggaz wanna kill me, in the P's They say "See him, watch him, he will fuckin beat 'em" And it's Note$, my tote, it's G givin dick to ho's Make 'em feel like the hit the lottos [Chorus x2] [Dee:] There's a war goin on outside Ain't no man on this mothafuckin land or place safe to hide You could get lower than the fuckin Timbo King I send my bimbo bitch to duct tape and bust off Cut faces, purer than that cocaine dust off Love aces surrounded by pretty faces that study the law Your green matrix kept me out of mean cases, made the forty five keep me alive Made the sawed off speak in different tongues, fuck bein black, gifted and young I'm young, black and strapped with Osama's attitude Duc Lo and Gunbook collabo, you fuckin with longitude and latitude What's fuckin with that? Dope aim bustin the gat Slow pain touchin ya back, show no signs of slowin down or stoppin That gun blast is showtime, nigga, we here to get it poppin We here to get it poppin... [Chorus x2]

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