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  • 作词 : George Clinton Jr./William Collins/Garry Shider/Todd Shaw
    作曲 : George Clinton Jr./William Collins/Garry Shider/Todd Shaw
    Ain't no love in
    Oakland, *******
    *******s always talkin bout '
    I love you'
    But ain't no love, *******
    Now it's a shame,
    I can't be saved by
    John the Pope
    I gotta be a pimp or sellin ******
    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 ******fiends 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 ******* started runnin thangs
    And drive-by shootings was a normal thang
    Before brothers bought
    Benzes, used to drive
    Mustangs12
    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, ******* that school
    All the *******s 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 *******t but a place to fight
    Mutha*******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 *******t and
    I'm brokeI 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 ******
    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 weekYou ******* up my money, don't cop no pleadCause 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 *******t
    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
    OaktownI 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 *******t
    Light the mutha*******a, take a fat-ass hit
    My fingers all sticky from the residue
    Don't ******* with me,
    I won't ******* 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 liveMack these hoes every chance
    I getLike a drop
    SL, three times black
    I'm a pimp, a player and
    I been known to mack
    I'm a mutha*******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, *******,
    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, *******
    That's the place
    I call home
    Where the
    Oakland City players roam
    Game don't stop, listen to me
    Everybody ****** with the
    O.P.DSlingin *******, knockin it off
    Killed some *******, and he never got caught
    High-speed chases everyday
    Can't make no money no other way
    A ******* yelled "raid!", that ain't true
    Cause you laid down, and she ****** you
    Two days ago
    I didn't know she existed
    But now baby is just one of my *******
    I don't care what you say
    Cause I catch ******* and straight get pay
    You don't care what
    I'm sayinPunk-ass ******* ain't got no game
    Hoes love me, cause
    I'm a player
    They think maybe
    I just might ******* 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 *******t 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
    JackAlways had the ******* 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 *******
    She beeped
    Mike, cause she got mad
    She knew about the ******* her boyfriend had
    Mike called back, and he was on his way
    He just got the ******* yesterday
    You see, Mike ain't trippin on his girlfriend
    Fine little *******,
    I think her name is
    LynnMike 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, *******
    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 *******t if you sho' can't shoot
    Cause mutha*******as will smoke them boots
    You gets no love from
    Oakland, *******
    You better try to make me rich
  • 作词 : George Clinton Jr./William Collins/Garry Shider/Todd Shaw
    作曲 : George Clinton Jr./William Collins/Garry Shider/Todd Shaw
    Ain't no love in
    Oakland, *******
    *******s always talkin bout '
    I love you'
    But ain't no love, *******
    Now it's a shame,
    I can't be saved by
    John the Pope
    I gotta be a pimp or sellin ******
    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 ******fiends 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 ******* started runnin thangs
    And drive-by shootings was a normal thang
    Before brothers bought
    Benzes, used to drive
    Mustangs12
    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, ******* that school
    All the *******s 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 *******t but a place to fight
    Mutha*******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 *******t and
    I'm brokeI 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 ******
    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 weekYou ******* up my money, don't cop no pleadCause 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 *******t
    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
    OaktownI 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 *******t
    Light the mutha*******a, take a fat-ass hit
    My fingers all sticky from the residue
    Don't ******* with me,
    I won't ******* 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 liveMack these hoes every chance
    I getLike a drop
    SL, three times black
    I'm a pimp, a player and
    I been known to mack
    I'm a mutha*******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, *******,
    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, *******
    That's the place
    I call home
    Where the
    Oakland City players roam
    Game don't stop, listen to me
    Everybody ****** with the
    O.P.DSlingin *******, knockin it off
    Killed some *******, and he never got caught
    High-speed chases everyday
    Can't make no money no other way
    A ******* yelled "raid!", that ain't true
    Cause you laid down, and she ****** you
    Two days ago
    I didn't know she existed
    But now baby is just one of my *******
    I don't care what you say
    Cause I catch ******* and straight get pay
    You don't care what
    I'm sayinPunk-ass ******* ain't got no game
    Hoes love me, cause
    I'm a player
    They think maybe
    I just might ******* 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 *******t 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
    JackAlways had the ******* 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 *******
    She beeped
    Mike, cause she got mad
    She knew about the ******* her boyfriend had
    Mike called back, and he was on his way
    He just got the ******* yesterday
    You see, Mike ain't trippin on his girlfriend
    Fine little *******,
    I think her name is
    LynnMike 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, *******
    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 *******t if you sho' can't shoot
    Cause mutha*******as will smoke them boots
    You gets no love from
    Oakland, *******
    You better try to make me rich