[Fat Joe]
Ow! Yeah! My niggaz
Throw your hands in the air right now man
Feel this shit right here
Scott Storch nigga
Yeah Khalid I see you nigga
Show Big Pun love
Uh! Yeah! Uh! Yo!

[Fat Joe]
I don't give a fuck 'bout your fault or mishappenin's
Nigga we from the Bronx, New York... shit happens
Kids clappin' love to spark the place
Half the niggas on the squad got a scar on they face
It's a cold world, and this is ice
Half a mil' for the charm, nigga this is life
Got the phantom in front building Trinity Ave
10 years been legit they still figure me bad
As a youngin', I was too much to cope with
Why you think, mo'fuckers nicknamed me, Cook Coke shit
Should've been called armed robbery, extortion or maybe grand larceny...
I did it all, I put the pieces to the puzzle
This long, I knew me and my peoples was gon' bubble
Came out the gate, no I didn't flow Joe shit
Fat nigga with shotty was the logo kid

[Chorus:]
[Fat Joe]
Said my niggas don't dance
We just pull up our pants and
Do the Roc-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
I said my niggas don't dance
See we just pull up our pants and
Do the Roc-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
(Come on)

[Remy Martin]
R to the E'zzy'
M to the whizz-I,
My arms stay breezy
The Don's stay fizz-I
Got a date at 8, I'm in the 740 fizz-I
And I just bought a bike so I can ride 'til I die
With a matchin' jacket
'Bout to cop me a mansion
My niggas in the club, but you know they not dancin'
We gangsta, and gangstas don't dance; we boogie
So nevermind how we got in here with the burners and hoodies
Listen we don't pay admission
And bouncers don't check us
And we walk around the metal detectors
And there really ain't no need for a VIP section in the middle of the dance floor
Reckless, check it, said it
Like my necklace, started relaxin' now, that's what the fuck I call a chain reaction
See, money ain't a thing nigga, we still the same nigga, flows just changed
Now we 'bout to change the game nigga

[Chorus]

[Fat Joe]
Now we livin' better now
Gucci sweater now
And that G4 could fly through, any weather now
See niggas get tight, when you worth some millions
That's why I sport the chinchilla to hurt they feelin's
Your can find Joe Crack at all type of shit
Out at Vegas front roll on all the fights and shit
If I visited Compton, they'd prolly squeal
'Cause half these rappers get "Blow" like Derek Foreal
If you cross the line damn right, I'm gon' hurt you
These faggot niggas even made gang signs commercials
Even Lil' Bow Wow throwin' it up
B2K crip walkin' like that's what's up
Kay keep tellin' me to speak about rucker
Matter of fact, I don't wanna speak about the rucker
Not even Pee-Wee Kirkland could imagine this
My niggas didn't have to play to win the championship
Come on

[Chorus]

[Fat Joe]
Ha! Ha! Yeah (Can you hear me)
Bronx, BX borough, Terror Squad, uh (Ha)
Big Pun forever, Tony Montana forever
Uh! Yeah! Streets is ours, come on
Nah man, it ain't never gon stop
Search Raul JB, Fat Ant come on Uh

Writer : CARTAGENA, JOSEPH / SMITH, REMY / STORCH, SCOTT
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.