L-BURNA AKA LAYZIE BONE - Midwest-Westcoast Connection lyrics

rate me

Let 'em know where you at homie (I'm on the Westside for real baby)

Where at? (2-1-3)

That's right homie, what's up Layzie? (What's happenin baby?)

Ha ha, yeah, we clickin up homie (let's get this gangsta shit crackin)

Hi Power ese (yeah!)

Takin over the motherfuckin game, ha ha

Let's do it homie (yeah)

(From the 2-1-6 to the 2-1-3)

From Cleveland to California droppin nothin but heat

Lowridin and gangbangin cause I'm into 'caine slangin

Hi Power Soldiers, on the frontline aimin

(From the 2-1-6 to the 2-1-3)

From Cleveland to California droppin nothin but heat

And once again you know it's on, Mr. Criminal, Layzie Bone

Packin straps whenever we roam, haters leave that shit alone

I'm on a whole 'nother level, we probably care with this gangsta shit

Representin the streets, and every rider I'm bangin with

Mr. Criminal, Layzie Bone from the Thug, there ain't no claimin it

Haters talkin that madness, I'm a show 'em what I'm aimin with

And fools hate me cause I rose from the gutter

And I'm that lad from the southern side that flows like no other

Bustas spendin big bucks just to flop every summer

While we're pullin up in Escalades, Benz's and Hummers, ha ha

They said those motherfuckers came up

Infested the streets, and sewed the game up

But still, hoes wanna see me, still see dick with eyes closed

So on the +1st of Tha Month+, I send 'em to +Tha Crossroads+

Will I live or I die tonight? Only God knows

Keepin haters in my sight, enemies in my scope

From the streets of Cleveland to southern Cali ride on 100 spokes

Bar heads, blue wax and brown skin when I approach - that's it

From the 2-1-6 to the 2-1-3

Where the loc's and the motherfuckin gangstas be

We be stompin in the South, mobbin through the East

We givin up love, holla Eazy-E

Straight from the motherfuckin Theive-land

Where you can cop you a forty, for a dollar-ninety even

Drink a brew or be a true nut and a alcoholic

You got a problem with the bosses then my crew will solve it

Don't try to trip, I got the gauge in the trunk

Double cock that bitch and just dump

Organized crime bring residuals

I'm fuckin with the Criminal, real individual

Westside, let 'em know we strapped

Y'all can't hold us back, we too thug for that, nigga

Criminal minded, you've been blinded

Lookin for some shit like ours, you can't find it

From the 2-1-6 to the 2-1-3

From East 1999 out to these West Coast streets

We some G's, we some riders tonight, we ready to clown

Ready to smash, put it down, represent for the brown

And uh, it's kinda crazy, got a call from the homie Layzie

'Bout to show these motherfuckers how we represent daily

It's a 2-11 homie, that's a jack in progress

And I bang for the South, still I rep for the West

Who get sunk up in the street, for the heat I possess

And this ain't a game of checkers, motherfuckers this chess

So uh, I think it's time for the game to recognize

Open your eyes motherfuckers, Hi Power, we on the rise

Like times almost in my face, I'm a rep it when I complete ya

On the real, I feel that I'm the West's best kept secret

Cause these fools be claimin they gangstas but they ain't no motherfuckin G's

They really want some drama, come to the 2-1-6 and 2-1-3

Yeah yeah, from the 2-1-6 to the 2-1-3 homie

Mr. Criminal, Layzie Bone

Hi Power Soldiers!

Mess with that Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, lil' homie

Ha ha! It's official

Haters keep hatin, Bone Thugs, connect