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paris (rap) - ain't no love lyrics
[intro: paris]
yeah, this is another story of famous dogs
where the dog that don’t keep it real is a b-tch
these are rappin’ dogs, soldier dogs, harmonic dogs
house dogs, street dogs
dogs of the world, unite
[verse 1: paris]
bye, bye sh-tty luck, skinny ducats
high side, many bucks, t-tty f-ckin’
smash on these corleones, sn-tchin’ fetti
westside n-ggas roam, but y’all ain’t ready
every city, every borough, every town
every ghetto comin’ through, we touchin’ down
when i spit, they all scatter, battle cry
worldwide, it don’t matter – who wanna ride?
return of the street pros, k!ller foes
expose what you need to know, guerrilla flows
still on that same sh-t, same time
still from that same clique, same side
real n-ggas ain’t impressed by the stories they bring
when it’s all said and done, y’all remember my name
f-ck a corleone, n-gga, we grown, now what you sayin’?
it’s all about the chedda, but beware what you claimin’
[verse 2: kam]
y’all n-ggas really wanna see us dead, huh? we too militant
always on that pro-black, cracka jack k!llin’ sh-t
i picked up a few cuts, scr-pes, and raw abrasions
collectin’ my cheese and checkin’ these caucasians
cause when you k!llin’ n-ggas on a record then you goin’ places
but talk about k!llin’ these crackas, you racist
that’s why crackas and flies, i do despise
the more i see these crackas, the more i like flies
look into my eyes before i pull this trigger, i don’t know what’s worse
a black cracka or a white n-gga, who should i do first?
i write a verse and have ’em runnin’ scared, turnin’ red, protestin’
i just be blastin’, don’t be askin’ no questions, holmes
’til the smoke clear, cause folks here know
the difference between a g and some holly-weirdo
what you in fear fo’? losin’ your life or your money?
all these coward–ss fake thugs, a.k.a. bugs bunnies
[chorus]
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
livin’ and strivin’ and diggin’ the skin he’s in
[verse 2: paris]
so i fiend for the days when the funk was king
‘fore these pop sl-ts sh-tted on my video screen
‘fore these bow wow wow yippee yos and hoes
before n-ggas street clothes turned to platinum and gold
before videos made ’em all fantasy macks
‘fore blingin’, we was singin’ what it mean to be black
now these b-tchy b-tchy boy bands causin’ a fuss
and every n-gga rappin’ thinkin’ thuggin’ is us
i’m bustin’ pro-black, comin’ with rough raps, i catch these
hollywood shuffles by they motherf-ckin’ ruffles
and rough ’em up, see, and f-ck them tricks
‘comin’ phony, all them cowards know is blingin’ and kris
but this poolside fantasy, lovin’–ss wannabe
record label superfly, n-gga, eat sh-t and die
state-of-mind mentality is blind to me
see i’d die ‘fore i live on my knees, believe
[interlude]
you know it ain’t no love, no love for these
you know it ain’t no love, no love for these
you know it ain’t no love, no love for these
don’t you know it ain’t no
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