[Intro - Fat Joe]
Yeah! My niggaz! Uh-huh!
Throw ya hands in 'da air right now, man!
Feel 'dis shit right here!
Scott Storch nigga!
Yeah Khalid, I see you, nigga!
Show Big-Pun love! Uh!
Yeah! Uh! Yo!
[Verse 1 - Fat Joe]
Kids clappin, luv ta spark da place.
It's a cold world, and dis is ice.
Half a mill' for da charm, nigga, dis is life.
Ten years been legit, dey still figure me bad.
As a youngin, I was too much to cope with.
Should'a been called Don Robbery,
Extortion, or maybe Grand Larceny.
Came out da gate on some Flow-Joe shit.
Fat nigga with da shotty was "The Logo Kid".
Said my niggaz don't dance,
We just pull up our pants and,
Do da Roc-away.
I said my niggaz don't dance,
We just pull up our pants and,
Do 'da Roc-away.
(Come on!)
[Verse 2 - Remy]
are to the E'zzie',
M to the whiz-zY,
My arms stay breezy,
The Don stays fizz-zY,
Got a date at 8, IÃ¢??m in the 740'fizz-I've,
Wit' a matchin' jacket,
Bout' to cop me a mansion,
We gANGSTA, and gangstas don't dance- we boogie,
So nevermind how we got in here,
Wit' burners 'n hoodies.
Listen, we don't pay admission,
And da bouncers don't check us,
And we walk around 'da metal detectors.
And there really ain't a need for a VIP section,
In 'da middle of da dance floor,
Reckless; Check it!
Said He Like my necklace, started relaxin now,
Dats what da fuck I call a chain reaction.
See, money ain't a thang nigga,
We still da same niggaz,
Flows just changed
Now we 'bout'ta change 'da game, nigga.
[Repeat Chorus - 1X]
[Verse 3 - Fat Joe]
Now we livin' betta' now,
Gucci sweata' now.
And 'dat G4 could fly through,
Any weatha' now.
See, niggaz get tight,
When you wurf' some millions.
'Dis is why I sport 'dis chincilla;
'Ta hurt 'dey feelin's.
You can find Joe Crack at all type 'a shit,
If 5-0 boy come, then they'd prod'lly squeel.
These faggot niggaz even made gang-signs commercial.
Even Lil' Bow Wow throwin' it up,
B2K crip-walkin', like dat's was' up.
Matter 'fact, I don't want to' speak about 'Da Rucker,
Not even Pee-Wee Kirkland could imagine 'dis,
My niggaz didn't haff'ta play'ta win the championship.
[Repeat Chorus - 1X]
[Outro - Fat Joe]
Bronx, BX Borough, Terror Squad, Uh... (Ha!)
Uh! Yeah! Streetz is ours, come on!
Nah man, it ain't never gonna stop...
Serge! Raoul! J.B., Fat Ed, come on! Uh!
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Lean Back Lyrics

Fat Joe – Lean Back Lyrics

Lean Back lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC

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