Songtext:
feat. Ice Cube, W.C., Butch Cassidy Klebefolie farbig [Verse 1: Mack 10] I jumped out the blocks like ready! set! go! Check all my traps in dutch to feel cold I'm all about the mix like a fuckin cesarge And out the gararge, is the belly or not With the brains blowed out, so is the suns beeming I got a jacket drooming and the hoes feeming Since I'm Westside Connected I got a streets on hype I got big deals, big squeels, big wheels, big pipes
[Verse 2: Ice Cube] Twenty-inches row - going get these hoes Pinky hoes - when I roll with my negros Be a freak about it and I'm a see about it Speaked 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 - where the money pit? You broke ass niggas can't even stopping this
[Verse 3: W.C.] Where that connect right? Nigga three time Dollas Six-double-0-west nigga selling rich roll delling Throw it up, po it up, guns bust fo' fingas up Two twist it in the middle with the thong cup Chevy mansion, dipping and assing, kicking us hacking Fo'-fo' macking and coat tacking Dub the hood and I'm in blue friend at 'em Front up the club, I'm duolete, do for talk and mack 'em trick
[Chorus: Butch Cassidy] What is it like? Tossing 'em hoes And rolling on fools on them fo's 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 us, sit 'em folks Bitches on suck us 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 streets is how I spit it Chickenhawk see a bird, I gotta get it So if ya hood come up sho', then I'd probly get it If lil momma dick then I gotta hit it The children gotta be a magnum to me to fit it If you sherm on 'em stick then I'd probly lit it The red beem is on your weak so I'd probly spit it
[Verse 5: Ice Cube] To all them bitches that think they bootylicious I think they new tricious - I think they do dishes I make 'em three wishes - I take 'em they pictures And spit 'em they britches - I fuck 'em they bitches Eagle maniac - little homies call me brainiac Ice Cube is an ass-hole it ain't none of that 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 Like a trank and is nake 'em but fine when I spare them And I can't shake these ghetto ways I street rich nigga in the bag of lays And the rubber benz from grace From the turf for the sirenz and Neverlands Where we keep pistols, smoking like def cannonstand It's gangsta the killa - the dope dealer Backing for mo' figgas - so trick died, down Po the liquor bitch
[Chorus: Butch Cassidy] 2X What is it like? Tossong 'em hoes And Rolling on fools on them folks Flossing 'em chain, we doing big thangs And busting on punks at close range This is the ways us gangsta's roll Sit back and watch us, sit 'em folks Bitches on suck us done so cold Ahhh! this is the life we chose
[Repeat 2X] It's play and C, 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
