Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song All Around The World , by - Cuban Link. Release date: 17.01.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
All Around The World |
| Yeah yeah |
| Terror Squad what-what |
| Cuban Link what-what |
| '99, baby |
| 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 |
| 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 |
| 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 |
| 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 |
| No doubt |
| Cuban Link, baby |
| 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 |