Lean Back (Remix)

[Lil Jon] STOP! IT'S THE MOTHERFUCKING REMIX! [Intro: Mase & (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!) [Hook x2: 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 [Verse 1: Mase] You know it's deja vu, and the day y'all do It'll be the day y'all bleed Wrist minus 80 degrees King of Harlem ain't nobody made me leave Who else could take 5 years off? Cold turkey? Come back and fly lears off Cats front leave them leaning like Smirnoff If haters wanna hate then its their loss Come up in the Rucker with all my Jake's on Car grills so big you can cook a steak on People hear Mase call them wanna get their mase on You hot 16, I'm a very great song They beating on the DJ booth 'fore the Mase song You play Clark Kent, you better have your cape on Plenty homes Mansion many rooms My necklace, 2Xs and three Bentley bulls Lean back [Hook] [Lil Jon] Eminem, what's up! Hey! [Verse 2: Eminem] You don't want no problems with Harlem You don't want no problems with the boogie down Bronxter You don't want no drama with the blonde bomber Original Don Dada of the blond bottle, the model from White America Then Joe, the spokesperson for the Latino Then we got Mase 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 To get on the horn and tell him about the storm coming all our way So tell a pal, grab a gal right now, get on the floor while I 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 [Hook] [Verse 3: Fat Joe] No Judas or cowardice or Caine'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, they 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 Lean back, motherfuckers This here's a three peat we back at the Rucker It's Cook Coke Crack, preach it to ya, brother The mic more rap and preach you motherfuckers [Hook] [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!