(feat. Terror Squad)


[Intro: Fat Joe] 

Owwwwww!!!! 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! 


[Verse 1: Fat Joe] 

I don't give a fuc* about your faults or mishappens nigga 

We from the Bronx, New York, shit happens 

Kids clappin, love to spark the place 

Half the niggaz in the squad got a scar on their face 

It's a cold world and this is ice 

Half a mill for the charm, nigga this is life 

Got the Phantom in front of the buildin, Trinity Ave 

Ten years been legit, they still figure me bad 

As a young'n - was too much to cope with 

Why you think ? mu'fuckers nicknamed me Cook Coke shit Shoulda been called Armed Robbery 

Extortion, or maybe Grand Larceny 

I did it all, I put the pieces to the puzzle 

Just as long, I knew me and my peoples was 'gon bubble 

Came out the gate on some Flow Joe shit 

Fat nigga with the shotty was the logo kid! 


[Chorus: Fat Joe] 

Said my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants 

And do the rockaway, 

now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

I said my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants 

And do the rockaway, 

now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back 

(Come on!) 


[Verse 2: Remy Martin] 

R to the Eazy, M to the Wizzi 

My arms stay breezy, the Don stay fizzi 

Got a date at 8, I'm in the 7-40-fizzive 

And I just bought a bike so I can ride till I die 

With a matchin jacket, 'bout to cop me a mansion 

My niggaz in the club, but you know they not dancin 

We gangsta, and gangstas don't dance with boogies 

So never mind how we got in here with burners and hoodies 

Listen we don't pay admission and the bouncers don't check us 

And we - walk around the metal detectors 

And there really ain't a need for a VIP section 

In the middle of the dance floor reckless, check it 

Said he - liked my necklace, started relaxin 

Now that's what the fuc* I call a chain reaction 

See "Money Ain't a Thing" nigga, we still the same niggaz 

Flows just changed now we bout to change the game nigga 


[Repeat Chorus] 


[Verse 3: Fat Joe] 

Now we living better now, Gucci sweater now 

And that G4 can fly through any weather now 

See, niggaz get tight when you worth some millions 

This is why I sport the chinchilla to hurt they feelings 

You can find Joe Crack at all type of shit 

Out in Vegas front row to all the fights and shit 

If Five-o boy come, then they'd proudly squeal 

Cause half these rappers they Blow like Derek Foreal 

If you cross the line, damn right I'm 'gon hurt ya 

These faggot niggaz even made gang signs commercial 

Even Lil' Bow Wow throwin it up 

B2K crip walkin like that's what's up! 

Kay keep tellin me to speak about the Rucker 

Matter of fact, I don't wanna speak about the Rucker 

Not even Pee Wee Kirkland could imagine this 

My niggaz didn't have to play to win the championship, come on! 


[Repeat Chorus] 


[Outro: Fat Joe] 

Ha! ha! yeah! (Can you hear me?!) 

Bronx, BX borough, Terror Squad, uh (Ha!) 

Big Pun forever, Tone 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