DL Down3r - Lean Back Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, ha, ha, shout out to Fat Joe with the Terror Squad, what up, that's Sick
Ass B, sick ass B, yeah, yeah, it's
your boy DL downer, ha, ha, you know, we on that West
Coast shit, I'm about to make you motherfuckers lean back one time, yeah, I got a knit for
This rap shit, homie, I'm gonna scratch it, if it's weapons to guns, I got guns, now I'm
Gonna fucking hatch it
, black magic right hand to the darker side, I spit that sick
Shit so wickedly, homie, my soul will never die, but it multiplies to the darkest angel,
And if you see me pro black hooded mask, you know that you in danger like a stream,
Keep them hotter than
the heat, brave, and I've been tested, rejected, now I'm respected to
the
Highest grade, a big killer from my guerrilla, yeah, uh, we go deep with the creep, and when
We hit you, motherfuckers feel it, a street brawler, kill on the hour, I leave them back
when
we smash
It, I never count before my I love that bloodshed, I'm through the mud on the street,
I leave the mud red clothed,
I'm bitch fucking trippin'
Yeah!
Cause beer's just gon' quick stay long
Just like a fucking hippie
Dripping some niggas for th
e hit
I keep the head right
Light up the blunt
Grab the pump
And I hit the headlights
I catch em slippin'
Yeah!
Cause I'm the boss in the culture
My moths gets to fucking trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Cause I'm the boss in the culture
My moths gets to fucking trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Yeah!
I'm all trippin'
Trippin' the gangsta
I feel ya feelin' it
Smokin' the pound of this weed
I know ya feelin' it
I'm trippin'
Trippin' is the front

Like a bayonet
The real me
Is behind you in the silh
ouette
I'm trippin'
Trippin' the gangsta
I feel ya feelin' it
Yeah!
Smokin' the pound of this weed
I know ya feelin' it
I'm trippin'
Trippin' rap is the front
Like a bayonet
Real me
Real me
I'm moving so slow
I'm coming at you on this creep status
I'm
right behind you in the shadows
Bout to really have it
I'm like a whisper
You can hear me till I'm right up on ya
Telling everything inside
What's the california
Hot on the corner
In the shadow of a late night
Like a bitch that's on the prowl
Bitch I'm rea
dy to fight
With my toes right
I got the same lock
But I ain't sitting at your house
To get this bitch off
I'm a whole block
I can make you
I release the soul and face of pox, I'm city shrieking, you got to creep, creep
When I run through the spots, I be t
he only one that lives in the prison
I get on panic, I get so tannished, I get from nightmares up to the sky
When it die, I jump out and night flares, cold stairs behind
I start a pack of shrap with a heart full of weed
Now where my life's at?
Tripp, tripp
in' the gangsta, I feel ya feelin' it
Smokin' a pound and it's weed, I love ya feelin' it
Tripp, trippin', rappin' for fun like a bayonet
Real me is behind you in the silhouette
Tripp, trippin' the gangsta, I feel ya feelin' it
Smokin
' a pound it's weed, I ya feelin' it
Tripp, trippin', rappin' fun a bayonet
Real me, real me, real me
Yeah, you guys already know

That D down there, you already know
L County, West Coast, Nala
For all you motherfuckers that doubt it
I'll my shit in the hou
se, dog
I'll get it shouted
Yeah, L bitch
You ain't seen much, you've seen them
Fuck them
Yeah, yeah
West Coast, West Coast, West Coast Sugar Boom Boom Bitch
Bitch Shout out to Fat Joe
Fat Joe What up? We Out
We Out Some thought some breezy
You already kno
w Some thought some breezy
You already know dawg Yes
Canada, Oregon Oregon to AZ
AZ to New Mexico Everywhere in between
Texas You know Texas
Lil Young what's up dawg?
Switzer House
Lady Dice
Everything Nice Everything Nice
Shout out to Blue Pie
Damien
what's up?
Blue Pie
DJ Central
Australia
All ready