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Текст песни Terror Squad - The Album

Terror Squad - The Album слова песни

[ INTRO: Fat Joe ]Yeah yeahTerror Squad what-whatCuban Link what-what`99, baby[ VERSE 1: Cuban Link ]Yo ladi-dadi, mami, I love to partyPlus I always cause trouble when I guzzle BacardiGot the hotties sippin rum, Maseratis with the stumpsMusic bumpin out the trunk. everybody`s gettin drunkFrom the Bronx, settin, lettin it all outNo doubt, toast your coastReppin the east, west, north, southNow it`s all about the Terror Squad, ghetto superstarsExtra-large players like Kareem Abdul JabbarWord to God, Pun, my crew won`t give a fuck who you areWe do our job like we part of the mob, shoot up the barCuban the Don Daddy like John GottiI brung a long shotie for the chump bodiesIf it`s on it`s on, mami[ CHORUS ]It`s Mister Cuban Link, baby, comin through with the hitsGettin love from the ladies while my crew in the trizAnd this goes out to the players, thugs, hustlers and pimps(We run shit)All around the worldYou know I do my thing, baby, Cuban Link full eclipseTerror Squad, new era, god, better choose who you withWhen we flip ain`t no tellin what we do to your click(We run shit)All around the world[ VERSE 2: Cuban Link ]Villainous Terror Squadian, Bacardi dark got me crashin the partyUndressin hotties to take it all from the drawers to they Barbie bitsPokin up in your ?vaginal? flow in Carhartts and TimbosThuggin it with a limp, cause Cuban Link is known to pimp hoesGettin bimbos from all angles, mandingo straight out the comboFrom a bedroom I needed gettin head in a DurangoGrab your ankles, do the hula-hoop your culo while I do yaNothin`s cooler than fuckin while you`re puffin a bag of buddahDon the Cuba`s got your cura, schoolin juniors like butuvasSmooth as Luther when it comes to suckin hooters like a hooverWho the man now? Impressed so many mamis, I can`t countHoldin my count down till the last round, hands downNo question I blow your chest in with a Smith & WessonYou`ll be dead in less than a second - reckonBetter listen, my weapon, step in my sessions for lessonsLasting impression, destined to be the best in this profession[ CHORUS ][ VERSE 3: Cuban Link ]I`m runnin ralleys from New York to Cali up in a CaddyPuffin like Daddy with paddy, baggin the weed up in the backseatCrackin forties, actin naughty, tellin em shorties, havin orgeesWatchin pokeys with four freaks - now that`s meI be the nasty cuban, slammin like I`m Patrick EwingPass me a bag of weed, a brew, and the track that we`re doingFor you and yours, full of glitter styleShowin all my skills like a stripper, baby, hit me with some shit for nowBreak it down, hit the ground, move your hips aroundMake it bounce, shoop and sit down on my dick and do the brownIf you down we can bounce right now, pick up a poundEnjoy and lounge with style, y`all know my name by now[ CHORUS ][ OUTRO: Fat Joe ]No doubtCuban Link, baby`99Terror SquadAll you fake-ass niggasTryin to be like us, talk like usBut you could never walk like usFuck around and get outlined in chalkTerror SquadJoe CrackBig PunProspectoArmageaddyoTriple Seis, what?Raoul

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