Lean Back (remix) (clean) (f/ Ma$e, Remy Martin, Eminem & Lil Jon) Lyrics - Fat Joe

Stop! It's the mothafuckin' remix! 

Yeah! 

Yeah! 

Eminem nigga! 

Lil Jon nigga! 

Mason Betha! 

That is yours! 

Uh yeah 

Harlem is back 

Who in the world want a problem wit that 

For real I heard Harlem is back 

Who in the world want a problem wit that 

Uh ya real Harlem is back 

Who in the world want a problem wit that 

Uh I heard Harlem is back 

Who in the world want a problem wit that 

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I said my niggas don't dance 

We just pull up our pants 

And do the roc-a-way 

Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

Yo, yo, yo, we goin' Deja Vu 

Then the day ya'll do 

It'll be the day ya'll bleed 

Rich 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 leers off 

Cats front they gonna leanin' like Smirnoff 

If haters wanna hate then it's their loss 

Come up in the rucka wit all my jigs on 

Got grills so big you can cook a steak on 

You gonna hear Mase gone 

When they get a Mase on 

You a hot 16, I'm a very great song 

If beatin' on the DJ before the Mase song 

He play Clark Kent, you better have your cape on 

Plenty grooms, mansion many rooms 

My neckless, two X's, and three benty boom (lean back) 

Photos 

I said my niggas don't dance 

We just pull up our pants 

And do the roc-a-way 

Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

Eminem what's up! 

You don't want no problems with Harlem 

You don't want no problems wit da boogy down Bronxter 

You don't want no drama wit da blonde bomber 

Original don gotta of the blonde bottle, the model 

For White America, then Joe, 

the spokesperson for the Latino 

Then we got Mase back to represent 

everything else in between 

Includin' the percentages of the rest, we dope 

The best from each coast, the mid west to the dirty dirty! 

Even further to Miami, 

all the way back to Californ I A 

It'll prolly be best right now if I warn Dre 

And get on the horn wit him tell him 

bout the storm comin' all our way 

So tell a pal grab a gal, right now get on the floor why wait 

Shake that ass a lil more my way or baby I don't dance 

Not that I can't, cuz of the pistol in my pants 

I said my niggas don't dance 

We just pull up our pants 

And do the rock-away 

Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

No Judas, a comadis Caine's brother 

Able to able to stop me nigga not me! 

Got the streets askin' damn who could top Pete 

Summer Jam, killed it man did it all with one beat 

I guess I'm bi-coastal now, took a 

damn south brother to bring your boy out 

As the wheel keep spinnin' I can hear 

niggas thinkin' crack I got one hit benny out 

Nope Joey bring them semi's out 

Of course you and yours pour a lil henny out 

So much rappers actin' in the game, 

I have to tell him put the mic away 

and run and go and get your emmies out 

Lean back mothafuckas, this here's a three-peat, 

we back at the rucka 

This? crack preachin' to your brother, 

the mic more rap, we preachin' to you mothafuckas 

I said my niggas don't dance 

We just pull up our pants 

And do the roc-a-way 

Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

Say my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats 

And blow your back away 

Fuck nigga lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

Say my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats 

And blow your backs away 

Bitch niggas lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

Hey!