bit.ly bit.ly Yeah... My niggas... Throw ya hands in the air right now man... Feel this shit right here... [Verse 1 - Fat Joe aka Joey Crack] 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 nick-named me, Cook Coke shit. Should've been called Don robbery, extorsion 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, on some flow Joe shit. Fat nigga with shotty was the logo kid. [Chorus] Said my niggas don't dance, we just pull up the 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 the pants and, Do the Roc-away. Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back. [Verse 2 - Remy] R to the E'zzy', M to the whizz-i [Y], My arms stay breezy, The Don's stay fizz-i, Got a date at 8, the day I was 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 ...
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