Lyrics

Trina – Lean On Me (feat. T-Pain & Young Cash) Lyrics

(Chorus)
Lean on me, if you’re gone on Patrone
Ciroc or….we might have to drive you home
It won’t be long before we drinking again
We all need somebody to lean on

(Verse 1)
F**k ni**a, f**king drink, boy
I’m on that tank, boy, purple piss yo pink boy
Black Range and…car
All Pakistan on my VISA, boy
Pass customs, I’m buzzing
Got plugs in every f**king region, boy
I’m playing supa much
I’m getting supa wasted
I’m cooking powder, 100 million, sitting on my saving
I’m over waging, I’m swaying, I drunk away my patience
I don’t even know how I ended up in Vegas
In a penthouse, half passed out
Half naked, barely, but I’m bout to spazz out
Call me sister, too much liquor, I done cashed out
I need a nap but I got no lean on me

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 2)
Pour me anotha muthaf**king drink, homie
Man I’ve been up for about two days
Started off with about two shots
My own weed, and my own liquor
Tell the driver we gon’ make two stops
The deejay play my s**t
But he said that… two drops
Left that thug life for that club life
From the party…to that 2Pac
Lugo, Remi, Henny, Goose Suits
Solo, Porto, Apple Juice
They have it already ready
When em girls pull in that parking lot
And I’m hopping out to the ballet
Get that bullsh** out my pockets
I’m falling outta control
And I’m not giving a s**t
Money all ova the floor
Till I got this set of licks
Well, I’ve been balling fo’ years
My s**t is super legit
Shawty look good as em all
She want me to give ‘er this d**k
We’re drinking hard liquor that hard liquor
We’ll….that wine
I’m going hard, ni**a, going fo’ the blood like
I’m the nappy boy team OG and I’m gon’ put my ni**a’s on
They just gotta lean on me

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 3)
Yeah, pour me anotha muthaf**king drink, homie
We mobbing side of that club, show me to my section
Got all the bottles you won’t, five..no question
Bring me a Patron, through Ciroc, then some Henny
And some Remy and don’t worry bout that money, we got plenty
Cuz we been grinding all f**king day
And you know we smoke that loud, and you know we pump that yay
Where yo money, ni**a?
Louie J’s, Louie shades, t-shirt with a medusa face
True Religion, Harsh Shoes, c’mon, my boy, let’s celebrate
I pop ‘em bottles, pop ‘em bottles
F**king hood rats is supermodels, I ain’t scared, ni**a
Pour me anotha drink, cuz I’m feeling it, I’m feeling it
A whole bottle of Remy, I’m killing it, I’m killing it
We taking shots, taking shots, she said she done, no, you’re not
Oh, we got one, I’m drunk as hell
I’ve got my team with me, my dawg look me in the eyes and said
Boy Lean on me

(Repeat Chorus)