Lyrics Connected for Life - Butch Cassidy , WC

I jumped out the blocks like ready! set! go!
Check all my traps and dodge to Fedco
I'm all up the mix like a fuckin collage
And out in the garage, is a Bentley Onage
With the brains blowed out, so the suns beaming
I got the jackers drooling and the hoes feinding
Since I'm Westside Connected I got a streets on hype
I got big deals, big skrill, big wheels, big pipes

Twenty-inches roll – goin' get these hoes
Picky hoes - wanna roll with my Negroes
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 - where the money pit?
You broke ass niggas can't even stomach this

What that connect like? Nigga three time felon.
Six-double-0 West selling, rich, rebellin'.
Throw it up; hold it up, guns bust, four fingers up
Two twisted in the middle with the thumb cuffed.
Chevy mashin', dipping the ass n' killin' a zaggin.
44' mag'n and toe tagging
Dub the hood phantom and I'm in a blue phantom.
In front of the club, I'm valet, dumpin' a tall can of magnum, trick.

What is it like? Tossing 'em hoes
And rolling on fools on them fo's
Flossing 'em chains, 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
Bitches and suckas done so cold
Ahhh! This is the life we chose

Dope money and rapping shit I'm all with it
And all I know is streets, so this is how I spit it
Chicken hawk see a bird, and I gotta get it
So if ya hood come up short, then I'd probably did it
And if your momma thick then I gotta hit it
The Trojans gotta be a magnum for me to fit it
If its sherm on a stick then I probably lit it
The red beam is on your wig so I probably split it

To all them bitches that think they bootylicious
I think they nutritious- I think they do dishes
I make 'em three wishes - of takin' they pictures
And spending they riches- I fuck 'em they bitches
Ego-maniac, little homies call me brainiac
Ice Cube is an ass-hole, and it ain't an act
So take a hit of that - and remember that
Where my motha-fuckin' niggas and my bitches at?

Tr-i-ick I'm W.C, the rider of the clique.
Like a dragon its nothin' but fire when I spit
And I can't shake these ghetto ways
I street rich nigga eatin' a bag of lays
Some rubber bands some braids
From the turf for the sirens and ambulance
Where we keep the pistols smoking like Afghanistan
It's the gangsta, the killa, the dope dealer
Back for more figgas-, so trick, bow down and pour the liquor, bitch!

What is it like? Tossin 'em hos
And rollin' on fools on them vogues
Flossin' 'em chains, we doin' big thangs
And busting on punks at close range
This is the ways us gangsta's roll
Sit back and watch as it unfolds
Bitches and suckas done so cold
Ahhh! This is the life we chose

What is it like? Tossin 'em hos
And rollin' on fools on them vogues
Flossin' 'em chains, we doin' big thangs
And busting on punks at close range
This is the ways us gangsta's roll
Sit back and watch as it unfolds
Bitches and suckas done so cold
Ahhh! This is the life we chose

It's plain to see you can't change me
Cause I'm a be Connected For Life

It's plain to see you can't change me
Cause I'm a be Connected For Life

Yeah! Westside Connect gang for life
Butch Cassidy, Manny Fresh you're a fool for this b-boy
Uh, uh, uh