Lean Back Remix

Lyrics

[Intro: Lil Jon] Stop! It's the motherfucking remix! [Intro: Ma$e & (Lil Jon)] Uhh! Yeah, Harlem is back (TS) Who in the world want a problem with that? (Fo' real) I heard Harlem is back (You know we had to do the remix) Who in the world want a problem with that? (Yeah! Eminem nigga!) Uhh! Yeah, Harlem is back (Lil Jon nigga!) Who in the world want a problem with that? (Mason Betha!) I heard Harlem is back (Fat Joe!) Who in the world want a problem with that? (Let's go!) [Chorus: Fat Joe] Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back, come on [Verse 1: Ma$e] You know it's d�j� vu, and the day y'all do It'll be the day y'all bleed Wrist minus eighty degrees King of Harlem, ain't nobody made me leave Who else could take five years off Cold turkey, come back and fly lears off? Cats front leave them leaning like Smirnoff If haters wanna hate, then it's their loss Come up in the Rucker with all my Jakes on Car grills so big you can cook a steak on People hear Ma$e gone, wanna get their Ma$e on You a hot 16, I'm a very great song They beating on the DJ booth for the Ma$e song You play Clark Kent, you better have your cape on Plenty goons, mansion, many rooms My necklace, two X's and three Benny Booms Lean back, lean back, lean back 'Cause he's back, come on Lean back, lean back, lean back 'Cause he's back, come on [Interlude 1: Lil Jon] Eminem, what's up! Hey! [Verse 2: Eminem], & Lil Jon You don't want no problems with Harlem You don't want no qualms with the Boogie Down Bronxster You don't want no drama with the blonde bomber Original Don Dada of the blonde bottle The model from White America Then Joe, the spokesperson for the Latino Then we got Ma$e back to re-per-e-sent E-ver-y-thing else in between Including the percentages of the rest we don't The best from each coast, the midwest to the dirty-dirty Even further to Miami, all the way back to Californ-i-a It'd probably be best right now if I warn Dre (Yo Dre) To get on the horn with him, tell him 'bout the storm coming all our way So tell a pal, grab a gal right now, get on the floor, why wait? Shake that ass a little more my way, but baby, I don't dance Not that I can't, there's a pistol in my pants, come on [Chorus: Fat Joe] Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back, come on Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back, come on [Verse 3: Remy Ma] Ayo, Remy pop but I'm hot like an out of state spot And anybody think I'm not, you're found in a vacant lot You don't really wanna run with the one chick Who smoke dutchess for lunches, da castle hill, I ain't luncheon Now, it's on it for the Terror Squad Pun, Prospect, Sunshine, Geddy, Crack and Remy Ma It's not a chick in the game want it My 16 so mean, put 20 G's and my chain on it Quick to flip, I ain't the average chick I'm packin' a MAC in the back of the forty-five past six And you know, I got enough goons to crush a country Any dude disrespectin' Pun, he better play then run C Bring your mans and then we handle him Then we gon' Timbaland trample 'em, then we pull the cans in them Lean back 'cause I ain't never worry See, I'm forever glory, smackin' up any chick in my territory [Chorus: Fat Joe] Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back Come on [Verse 4: Fat Joe & Lil Jon] No Judas or cowardice or Cain's brother Abel is able to stop me, nigga, not me! Got the streets asking "Damn, who can top P?" Summer Jam? Killed it, man, I did it all with one beat I guess I'm bi-coastal now Took a down south brother to bring your boy out (What?!) As the wheel keeps spinning I can hear niggas thinking, "Crack got one hit, then he out" Nope! Joey bring them semi's out Force you and yours to pour a little Henny out So much rappers acting in the game I had to tell them put the mic away and run and get your Emmy's out (Uh) Lean back, motherfuckers (Yeah) This here's a three-peat, we back at the Rucker It's Cook Coke Crack, preach it to ya, brother The Mike Moore rap and preach you motherfuckers [Chorus: Fat Joe] Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back Said my niggas don't dance We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway Now lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back Come on [Outro: Lil Jon] Said my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats And say blow your back away, fuck nigga Lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back I said my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats And say blow your back away, bitch nigga Lean back, lean back Lean back, lean back Hey!