Midwest-westcoast Connection Lyrics - The New Revolution - L-burna (layzie Bone)

[Intro: Mr. Criminal] + (Layzie) 

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

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) 

Takin over the motherfuckin game, ha ha 

Let's do it homie (yeah) 

[Hook: Mr. Criminal] + (Layzie) 

(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'mma 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'mma 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! {*echoes*} 

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

Haters keep hatin, Bone Thugs, connect {*echoes*}