Mac 10 Lyrics

Album: Unknown

Connected For Life (Feat. Ice Cube, W.C., Butch Ca

[Verse 1: Mack 10]

I jumped out the box like ready! set! go!

Check all my traps and dodge to Fedco

I'm all up in the mix like a fuckin collage

And out the gararge, is a Bentley Arnage

With the brains blowed out, so the suns beeming

I got a jackers drooling and the hoes fiending

Since I'm Westside Connected I got a streets on hype

I got big deals, big scrills, big wheels, big pipes

[Verse 2: Ice Cube]

Twenty-inches roll - going get these hoes

ficky hoes - wanna I roll with my niggaros

Be a freak about it and I'm a see about it

Speak about it no bitch, I'm a be about it

Who want some of this, West running this

Mack 10 with the playboy bunny bitch

She's a dummy bitch - with a money pit

You broke ass niggas can't even stomach this

[Verse 3: W.C.]

Where that connect right? Nigga three time felon

Six-double-0-west nigga selling rich roll delling

Throw it up, hold it up, guns bust- fo' fingas up

Two twised in the middle with the thumb tucked

Chevy mashin, dipping and assing, kin toda zaggin

Fo'-fo' magging and toe taggin

Dub the hood phantom in a blue van 

Im front of the club- the valet dump a tall can of magnum trick

[Chorus: Butch Cassidy]

What is it like? Tossing 'em hoes

And rolling on fools on Bremboes

Flossing 'em chain, we doing big thangs

And busting on punks at close range

This is the way us gangsta's roll

Sit back and watch as it unfolds

Snitchers and Scukas done so cold

Ahhh! this is the life we chose

[Verse 4: Mack 10]

Dope money and rapping shit I'm all with it

And all I know is the streets so thats how I spit it

Chickenhawk see a bird, I gotta get it

So if ya hood come up short then I'd probly did it

If lil momma thick then I gotta hit it

The trojan gotta be a magnum to me to fit it

If it was sherm on a stick then I'd probly lit it

The red beem was on your wig so I probly split it

[Verse 5: Ice Cube]

To all them bitches that think they bootylicious

I think they nutricious - I think they do dishes

I makin three wishes - I take 'em they pictures

And spit 'em they britches - I fuck 'em they bitches

Ego maniac - little homies call me brainiac

Ice Cube is an ass-hole it ain't it aint an act

So take a hit at that - and remember that

Where my mothafuckin niggas and my triggas at?

[Verse 6: W.C.]

Britches I get I'm Dub-C, the rider with the clique

n like a dragon I snaked em on fire when I spit

I can't shake these ghetto ways

A street rich nigga eatin a bag of lays

with rubber bands and braids

From the turf for the sirenz and Neverlands

Where we keep pistols smoking like Afghanistan

It's gangsta the killa - the dope dealer

Backing for mo' figgas - so trick bow down n Po the liquor bitch

[Chorus: Butch Cassidy] 2X

What is it like? Tossin 'em hoes

And Rolling on fools on Bremboes

Flossing 'em chains, we doing big thangs

And busting on punks at close range

This is the ways us gangsta's roll

Sit back and watch us as it unfolds

Snithces and Suckas done so cold

Ahhh! this is the life we chose

[Repeat 2X]

It's plain to see, you can't change me

Cause I'ma be Connected For Life

[Mack 10 {Talking}]

Yeah!, West Connect gang for life

Butch Cassidy, Manny Fresh you're a fool for this b-boy

Uh, uh, uh