Kamilson - Ness vs Link vs Falcon lyrics

Your Boy for Life "Ness vs Link vs Falcon (ft. Bidness & Scotty Bugatti)" [Verse 1: Bidness] Only rock Versace and Cavalli, f** that b**hes call me papi, buck back, buck back Split and make a dutch crack, open up the lunch bag Shorty got a hunchback s**ing on that nut sack Me? I never touch that I use her f**ing p**y for a punchbag Light one dro, Miguel leg drops like Tae Kwon Do And they need us, Samba be the sneakers Spread her wide open I guess that's what a D does (Adidas) Never beat us, 47 heaters Front kick, crack fists, karate chopping like Machida's Play ball all day I could've been recruited by the NBA Got an a-okay And my next flight to Vegas leaving JFK, ay [Hook: Your Boy for Life] Pull up to the club, all the hoes know what's up And I'm rolling up a dub, semi-auto in the glove Oh ohhhhhh, Oh ohhhhhhh Pull up to the club, all the hoes know what's up And I'm rolling up a dub, semi-auto in the glove Oh ohhhhhh, Oh ohhhhhhh [Verse 2: Scotty Bugatti] Scotty Bugatti, yeah that be the name Just a guinea speeding through the HOV lane Sipping on a forty getting head in a drop top From a chick who might be forty Come up in the spot, one hand on the wheel Souped up one make this chick neck sprain Only 26, but yeah I spit crazy game Pa** me the rock I'm dropping 3's like Ray Allen in the fourth Sitting on his porch, every rhyme another sign Of an elevated plateau Little white boy creeping in your shadow Banging hits out the park like Robby Cano Every week another hit, DiMaggio streak the way I spit 56 verses on your head like a halo clip Shh, don't speak b**h Reppin' Queens screaming "Yerrr" like 300 Greeks in this b**h [Hook: Your Boy for Life] Pull up to the club, all the hoes know what's up And I'm rolling up a dub, semi-auto in the glove Oh ohhhhhh, Oh ohhhhhhh Pull up to the club, all the hoes know what's up And I'm rolling up a dub, semi-auto in the glove Oh ohhhhhh, Oh ohhhhhhh [Verse 3: Your Boy for Life] Back for the 2-0-1-3, I k** it, explicit, your visit's A one way ticket, your spirit, I'll rip it in a New York minute Then I'll smash you with a 20 pound cinder block In the co*k from a 48 story window drop when I kick it Slay your epidermis a 7 layer fade With infected, rusty razor blades and bathe in a pool of aftershave After lunch, I pack a dutch, eat a bowl of Cap'n Crunch As I sit back and clutch your neck and hit you with a Falcon Punch Based on lyrics, you would think I had terminal illness So it's safe to say I'm the sickest, good grief Dogs run around in the yard looking for a beef They gone end up in the yard looking for their own teeth Visit Aruba, smoking Buddha, move to Cuba Sipping Sambuca, shoot barracuda's out the water with bazookas Land into a wall of defeat like concrete I'ma open up your chest, spit over your heartbeat [Hook: Your Boy for Life] Pull up to the club, all the hoes know what's up And I'm rolling up a dub, semi-auto in the glove Oh ohhhhhh, Oh ohhhhhhh Pull up to the club, all the hoes know what's up And I'm rolling up a dub, semi-auto in the glove Oh ohhhhhh, Oh ohhhhhhh