Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): William Calhoun, Dedrick Rolison, B Thomas, O'Shea Jackson
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Mack 10Connected for Life Lyrics:
I jumped out the blocks 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 garage, is a Bentley Arnage
With the brains blowed out, so the suns beamin'
I got a jackers droolin' and the hoes fiendin'
And since I'm Westside Connected I got a streets on hype
I got big deals, big scrills, big wheels, big pipes
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 runnin' 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
Where that connect right? Nigga three time felon
Six-double-0-west nigga sellin' rich roll dellin'
Throw it up, hold it up, guns bust- fo' fingas up
Two twisted in the middle with the thumb tucked
Chevy mashin', dippin' and assin', kin toda zaggin'
Fo'-fo' maggin' and toe taggin'
Dub the hood phantom in a blue van
I'm front of the club- the valet dump a tall can of magnum trick
What is it like? Tossin' 'em hoes
And rollin' on fools on Bremboes
Flossin' 'em chain, we doing big thangs
And bustin' on punks at close range
This is the way us gangsta's roll
Sit back and watch as it unfolds
Bitches and suckas done so cold
Ahh, this is the life we chose
Dope money and rappin' 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
To all them bitches that think they bootylicious
I think they nutritious, 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 and it ain't, it ain't an act
So take a hit at that and remember that
Where my mothafuckin' niggas and my triggas at?
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 smokin, like Afghanistan
It's gangsta the killa, the dope dealer
Backin' for mo' figgas, so trick bow down 'n po the liquor bitch
What is it like? Tossin 'em hoes
And rollin' on fools on Bremboes
Flossing 'em chains, we doing big thangs
And bustin' on punks at close range
This is the ways us gangsta's roll
Sit back and watch us as it unfolds
Bitches and suckas done so cold
Ahh, this is the life we chose
What is it like? Tossin 'em hoes
And rollin' on fools on Bremboes
Flossin' 'em chains, we doing big thangs
And bustin' on punks at close range
This is the ways us gangsta's roll
Sit back and watch us as it unfolds
Bitches and suckas done so cold
Ahh, this is the life we chose
It's plain to see, you can't change me
'Cause I'ma be connected for life
It's plain to see, you can't change me
'Cause I'ma be connected for life
Yeah, West Connect gang for life
Butch Cassidy, Manny Fresh
You're a fool for this -boy
Uh, uh, uh
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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