Lean Back

[Intro:]
Owwwu!
Yeah! My niggaz! Uh-huh!
Throw 'ya hands in 'da air right now, man!
Feel 'dis đẹp right here!

Scott Storch nigga!
Yeah Khalid, I see you, nigga!
Show Big-Pun love! Uh!
Yeah! Uh! Yo!

[Verse 1:]
I don't give a love about'cha faults, or mishappenin's, nigga
We from 'Da Bronx, New York... đẹp happens
Kids clappin', luv'ta spark 'da place
Half 'da niggaz in 'da squad got a scar on'dey face.

It's a cold world, and 'dis is ice
Half a mill' for 'da charm, nigga, 'dis is life
Got 'da Phantom in front of 'da buildin', Trinity Ave
Ten years been legit, 'dey still figure me bad.

As a youngin', I was too much to cope wit'
Why you think, mo'fuckers nick-named me "Cook Coke" đẹp
Should'a been called Don Robbery
Extortion, or maybe Grand Larceny..

I did it all, I put 'da pieces to 'da puzzle
Just as long, I knew me and my peoplez was gonna' bubble
Came out 'da gate on some Flow-Joe đẹp
Fat nigga with 'da shotty was "The Logo Kid".

[Chorus:]
Said my niggaz don't dance
We just pull up our pants and
Do 'da Roc-away.
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back.

I said my niggaz don't dance
We just pull up our pants and
Do 'da Roc-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back.
(Come on!)

[Verse 2:]
R to the E'zzie'
M to the whiz-zY
My arms stay breezy
The Don stays fizz-zY.

Got a date at 8, I'm in the 740'fizz-ive
And I just bought a bike, so I can ride till' I die
Wit' a matchin' jacket
Bout' to cop me a mansion.

My niggas in 'da club, but you know 'dey not dancin'
We gANGSTA, and gangstas don't dance- we boogie
So nevermind how we got in here
Wit' burners 'n hoodies.

Listen, we don't pay admission
And 'da bouncers don't check us
And we walk around 'da metal detectors.

And there really ain't a need for a VIP section
In 'da middle of 'da dance floor
Reckless; Check it!

Said He Like my necklace, started relaxin' now
Dat's what 'da love I call a chain reaction.

See, money ain't a thang nigga
We still 'da same niggaz
Flows just changed
Now we 'bout'ta change 'da game, nigga.

[Chorus 1X]

[Verse 3:]
Now we livin' betta' now
Gucci sweata' now
And 'dat G4 could fly through
Any weatha' now.

See, niggaz get tight
When you wurf' some millions
'Dis is why I sport 'dis chincilla
'Ta hurt 'dey feelin's.

You can find Joe Crack at all type 'a đẹp
Out at Vegas, front row 'ta all 'da fights n' đẹp
If 5-0 boy come, then they'd prod'lly squeel
'Cause half 'deez rappers did blow like Derek, fo'real.

If you cross 'da line, damn right I'm gonna hurt'chu
These faggot niggaz even made gang-signs commercial
Even Lil' Bow Wow throwin' it up
B2K crip-walkin', like dat's wass' up.

Kay keep tellin' me 'ta speak about 'Da Rucker
Matter 'fact, I don't wanna' speak about 'Da Rucker
Not even Pee-Wee Kirkland could imagine 'dis
My niggaz didn't haff'ta play'ta win the championship.

[Chorus 1X]

[Outro:]
Ha! Yeah! (Can 'ya hear me?!)
Bronx, BX Borough, Terror Squad, Uh... (Ha!)
Big-Punk forever, Tone Montana forever... (Can you hear me?!)

Uh! Yeah! Streetz is ours, come on!
Nah man, it ain't never gonna stop...
Serge! Raoul! J.B., Fat Ed, come on! Uh!