Текст произведения:
Lil Jon Stop! It's the mothafuckin remix!
Lil Jon (background) Yeah! Yeah! Eminem nigga!
Lil Jon nigga! Mason Bethem! That is yours!
Mase Uh Ya 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
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
Chorus x2
Fat Joe 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
Mase 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 no body 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 its 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)
Chorus x2
Fat Joe 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
Lil Jon Eminem whats up!
Eminem You don't want no problems with Harlem
You don't want no problems wit da boogy down
Bronxton 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, but baby I dont dance Not that I can,
cuz of the pistol in my pants
Chorus x2
Fat Joe 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
Fat Joe 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 beat, we back at
the rucka This cook crack preachin to your
brother, the mic more rap, we perachin to you
mothafuckas
Chorus x2
Fat Joe 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
Lil Jon 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
