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Terror Squad » All Around The World
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	[INTRO: Fat Joe] Yeah yeah Terror Squad what-what Cuban Link what-what '99, baby [VERSE 1: Cuban Link] Yo ladi-dadi, mami, I love to party Plus I always cause trouble when I guzzle Bacardi Got the hotties sippin rum, Maseratis with the stumps Music bumpin out the trunk. everybody's gettin drunk From the Bronx, settin, lettin it all out No doubt, toast your coast Reppin the east, west, north, south Now it's all about the Terror Squad, ghetto superstars Extra-large players like Kareem Abdul Jabbar Word to God, Pun, my crew won't give a fuck who you are We do our job like we part of the mob, shoot up the bar Cuban the Don Daddy like John Gotti I brung a long shotie for the chump bodies If it's on it's on, mami [CHORUS] It's Mister Cuban Link, baby, comin through with the hits Gettin love from the ladies while my crew in the triz And this goes out to the players, thugs, hustlers and pimps (We run shit) All around the world You know I do my thing, baby, Cuban Link full eclipse Terror Squad, new era, god, better choose who you with When 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 party Undressin hotties to take it all from the drawers to they Barbie bits Pokin up in your ?vaginal? flow in Carhartts and Timbos Thuggin it with a limp, cause Cuban Link is known to pimp hoes Gettin bimbos from all angles, mandingo straight out the combo From a bedroom I needed gettin head in a Durango Grab your ankles, do the hula-hoop your culo while I do ya Nothin's cooler than fuckin while you're puffin a bag of buddah Don the Cuba's got your cura, schoolin juniors like butuvas Smooth as Luther when it comes to suckin hooters like a hoover Who the man now? Impressed so many mamis, I can't count Holdin my count down till the last round, hands down No question I blow your chest in with a Smith & Wesson You'll be dead in less than a second - reckon Better listen, my weapon, step in my sessions for lessons Lasting 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 Caddy Puffin like Daddy with paddy, baggin the weed up in the backseat Crackin forties, actin naughty, tellin em shorties, havin orgees Watchin pokeys with four freaks - now that's me I be the nasty cuban, slammin like I'm Patrick Ewing Pass me a bag of weed, a brew, and the track that we're doing For you and yours, full of glitter style Showin all my skills like a stripper, baby, hit me with some shit for now Break it down, hit the ground, move your hips around Make it bounce, shoop and sit down on my dick and do the brown If you down we can bounce right now, pick up a pound Enjoy and lounge with style, y'all know my name by now [CHORUS] [OUTRO: Fat Joe] No doubt Cuban Link, baby '99 Terror Squad All you fake-ass niggas Tryin to be like us, talk like us But you could never walk like us Fuck around and get outlined in chalk Terror Squad Joe Crack Big Pun Prospecto Armageaddyo Triple Seis, what? Raoul
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