Lyrics of 'What's Love Got To Do With It' by Adina Howard

Ooh, yeah, yeah
What's love got to do
Warren G, rap for me, yeah-eah, yeah, mm mm

When G-dog, the hog, come up in the place
There's dollar signs in your eyes and a smile in your face
You wanna live fat, all for my sack
You got more drag than a low lo-do, cut the act
'Cause back before 92 and 93
You didn't give a damn about Warren G
But now that I'm slingin platinum LPs
All of a sudden, you on my N. U. Ts
Ain't nothin' you can do to make it stop
'Cause money makes the world go round and the panties drop
I ain't in love though, I don't need the pressure
I just wanna dig it like I'm diggin for treasure
Some of y'all had a good thing that you couldn't keep
Thought you was TLC, you had to creep
You say you had love, I said you need to quit
It's all about the dough, so what's love got to do with it?

What's love got to do, got to do with it?
What's love if you don't respect the game?
What's love got to do, got to do with it?
If you lack in this game, it's a shame, you won't make it

Now, I'm the type of brother that's down for mines
Before I made beats, I was down to grind
Back then, every single homey had my back
Now they're peepin' my stack and they're talkin' 'bout jack
But I'm the same brother day in and day out
And I'm-a stay that way until the day I lay out in a casket
It's drastic, 'cause homies is plastic
Break em off some bread, they want the whole damn basket
If yous a true homey, you would wish me well
Not plot to see a brother fell, jealous as hell
We used to get the same riches
Now your trigger-finger got the itches, schemin on my riches
Which is not a suprise, my eyes peep game
211s, 187s it's all the same
It's all a shame, homies jack you for your grip
Ain't no love involved, because it's all about the chips

What's love got to do, got to do with it?
What's love if you don't respect the game?
What's love got to do, got to do with it?
If you lack in this game, it's a shame, you won't make it

Now for these labels tellin' fables
Makin the messed-up deals under the tables
You think that you smart, but, fool, I'm the smartest
You can't make no money if you can't keep an artist
Sign the dotted line, put em on the shelf
Break em off some crumbs, keep the rest for yourself
I know how it goes, treat an artist like you know
Fly cars, gold, clothes, but no dough
Since it's all business, I'm-a handle mine
Keep track of my stack down to the very last dime
'Cause in this rap game, it's all about the buck

You bend over for the label and you will get bucked
Like how we run up in the skirt, and then you're through
The record label do the same thing to you
90 business, 10 show
Ain't no love in this game, 'cause it's all about the dough