Letra Lean Back de Remy Ma original
(feat. Terror Squad) Intro: Fat Joe> Owwwwww!!!! yeah! my niggaz Throw your hands in the air right now man Feel this shit right here! Scott Storch nigga Yeah Khalid I see you nigga Show Big Pun love! Uh! Yeah! Uh! Yo! Verse 1: Fat Joe> I don't give a fuc about your faults or mishappens nigga We from the Bronx, New York, shit happens Kids clappin, love to spark the place Half the niggaz in the squad got a scar on their face It's a cold world and this is ice Half a mill for the charm, nigga this is life Got the Phantom in front of the buildin, Trinity Ave Ten years been legit, they still figure me bad As a young'n - was too much to cope with Why you think ? mu'fuckers nicknamed me Cook Coke shit Shoulda been called Armed Robbery Extortion, or maybe Grand Larceny I did it all, I put the pieces to the puzzle Just as long, I knew me and my peoples was 'gon bubble Came out the gate on some Flow Joe shit Fat nigga with the shotty was the logo kid! Chorus: Fat Joe> Said my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants And do the rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back I said my niggaz 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 2: Remy Martin> R to the Eazy, M to the Wizzi My arms stay breezy, the Don stay fizzi Got a date at 8, I'm in the 7-40-fizzive And I just bought a bike so I can ride till I die With a matchin jacket, 'bout to cop me a mansion My niggaz in the club, but you know they not dancin We gangsta, and gangstas don't dance with boogies So never mind how we got in here with burners and hoodies Listen we don't pay admission and the bouncers don't check us And we - walk around the metal detectors And there really ain't a need for a VIP section In the middle of the dance floor reckless, check it Said he - liked my necklace, started relaxin Now that's what the fuc I call a chain reaction See 'Money Ain't a Thing' nigga, we still the same niggaz Flows just changed now we bout to change the game nigga Repeat Chorus> Verse 3: Fat Joe> Now we living better now, Gucci sweater now And that G4 can fly through any weather now See, niggaz get tight when you worth some millions This is why I sport the chinchilla to hurt they feelings You can find Joe Crack at all type of shit Out in Vegas front row to all the fights and shit If Five-o boy come, then they'd proudly squeal Cause half these rappers they Blow like Derek Foreal If you cross the line, damn right I'm 'gon hurt ya These faggot niggaz even made gang signs commercial Even Lil' Bow Wow throwin it up B2K crip walkin like that's what's up! Kay keep tellin me to speak about the Rucker Matter of fact, I don't wanna speak about the Rucker Not even Pee Wee Kirkland could imagine this My niggaz didn't have to play to win the championship, come on! Repeat Chorus> Outro: Fat Joe> Ha! ha! yeah! (Can you hear me?!) Bronx, BX borough, Terror Squad, uh (Ha!) Big Pun forever, Tone Montana forever Uh! Yeah! Streets is ours, come on Nah man, it ain't never gon stop Search Raul JB, Fat Ant come on Uh