Letra de ' Connected For Life ' de Triple X (xXx): Soundtrack

[Verse 1: Mack 10]

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

Check all my traps and dodge the fair cold

I'm all about the mix like a fuckin collage

And out the gararge, is the Bentley Onage

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

Speak about it, not bitch I'ma 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.]

What that connect nigga like three times selling

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

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

Two twisted in the middle with the thumb cuffed

Chevy Nash and dippin at ass and king of the zaggin

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 it as it unfolds

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 probably get it

If lil momma dick then I gotta hit it

The trojan gotta be a magnum for me to fit it

If you sherm on 'em stick then I'd probably lit it

The red beam is on your wig so I probably split 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 spendin' they riches and fuckin' they bitches

Ego maniac - little homies call me brainiac

Ice Cube's an asshole and it ain't an act

So take a hit at that - and remember that

Where my motherfuckin niggas and my bitches at?

[Verse 6: W.C.]

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

Like a dragon it's nothin' but fire when I spit

And I can't shake these ghetto ways

A street rich nigga eatin a bag of Lays

And the rubber bands and brains

From the turf for the sirens and Neverlands

Where we keep the pistols smoking just like Afghanistan

It's gangsta the killa - the dope dealer

Back for mo' figgas - so trick bow down and 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 as it unfolds

Bitches on suck us 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