Leanin' to the Left featuring NTT

Duration

3:46

Genres

Urban

Description

Lyrics

*CHORUS* {I'm blown, gone, leaning to the left, Fool, I'm zoned...zoned, talking to myself (mang)}4X *CHORUS* VERSE I [Quan Chi] -CD, Bold...Freebies? No. Slick young brother steady reppin C.O. -Where they keep'em real hot even when it's real cold, Looking good, head to toe, with they fingernails' froze (like) "Aey Quan Chi, let me in the studio. You know I wanna dance in your next video. I LOVE THIS SONG 'cause you got a silly flow. YOU LOVE THIS THONG silly boy, lets go!" -Now lets get one thing straight, You look me up & down, am I wearing roller skates? (NO) -Why you think we bout to roll girl, you need to pump your brakes, ...Just chill for a second, I'll be sure to frost your flakes, -But let me finish MY DRANK (MY DRANK) MY DRANK (MY DRANK) You can take another shot or you can walk the plank (walk the plank) -If you really down to roll, you gon' fill my gas tank (gas tank) No hug, no kiss, I'ma just say "Thanks" {Naw, I'm playin', I'm} *CHORUS* + (NTT-NTT)...NTT-NTT...NTT-NTT! VERSE II [NTT] 1st of all, my name is NTT. Knowledge thieving tyrant, manipulator of energy, Conqueror of words, accumulator of enemies, Masterous skill, with wisdom of centuries Consumer of curriculum, collegiate to elementary, My lines of symmetry make people think I'm enhanced genetically, Plus my power grows stronger the more that you mention me, So scream it louder & louder: NTT-NTT! {(NTT-NTT) (NTT-NTT)}2x Now I'm feeling so charged up. Building my bars up So from here on out, all of this will be hard stuff. {NTT-NTT NTT-NTT!}2x Soldiers of fortune stomping up 'til the ground bust Thunderous sound must seem like 300 Spartans just marched up. Jumping out of car guts, leaning off of what Quan Chi & I had sparked up, speaking all dutch ('Vat') Feasting off of beats so beefy & corn fed, Blood-N-Guts, Kornbread, all of us devils with horn heads. CHORUS VERSE III [Quan Chi] -...I'ma beat freak...I can beat cheeks ...I defeat fleets of cheats trying to steal my heat -...Beats ain't cheap (um-umm)...hit the paint deep ...Time is money, so you know my pockets hate sleep -...Feeling the bass, feeling the pace of my own style ...Feeling the taste, feeling the face of my profile -...Now take a second & listen, my flows are like ammunition, They blastin, gasin, & whistlin...RELOAD NOW! -...You can catch me on stage, with the speakers knockin (knockin) ...Then I'm off stage chillin, enjoying the party (party) -...I ain't trippin, I'm sippin on Hen & Bacardi (Bacardi) ...Turn my back, look at that, they trying to knock me (knock me) -...Same ones quick to dap, quick to snap & cross me (cross me) ...Same ones quick to flap, quick to snatch & copy (copy) -...But that's cool mang, I know your sh*t's gon' sound sloppy (sloppy) ...And can't nobody stop me! [Don't matter if I'm] CHORUS 3x