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Artist: Buddha Monk f/ Dee, G-Note$, Grime, Menace, Ruggs McGusto
Album:  Zu-Chronicles, Vol. 2: Like Father Like Son
Song:   City Without a Heart
Typed by: Tha Masta

[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!

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
Cuz 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 cuz 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

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 wit me, ride wit me, vibe wit 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]

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 wit 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]