[Intro: Lil Jon]

Stop! It's the motherfucking remix!

[Intro: Mase & (Lil Jon)]

Uhh! Yeah, Harlem is back (TS)

Who in the world want a problem with that? (Fo' real)

I heard Harlem is back (You know we had to do the remix)

Who in the world want a problem with that?

(Yeah! Eminem nigga!)

Uhh! Yeah, Harlem is back (Lil Jon nigga!)

Who in the world want a problem with that? (Mason Betha!)

I heard Harlem is back (Fat Joe!)

Who in the world want a problem with that? (Let's go!)

[Chorus: Fat Joe]

Said my niggas don't dance

We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway

Now lean back, lean back

Lean back, lean back

Said my niggas 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 1: Ma$e]

You know it's deja vu, and the day y'all do

It'll be the day y'all bleed

Wrist minus eighty degrees

King of Harlem, ain't nobody made me leave

Who else could take five years off?

Cold turkey? Come back and fly lears off

Cats front leave them leaning like Smirnoff

If haters wanna hate, then it's their loss

Come up in the Rucker with all my Jake's on

Car grills so big you can cook a steak on

People hear Ma$e call them wanna get their mase on

You hot 16, I'm a very great song

They beating on the DJ booth 'fore the Ma$e song

You play Clark Kent, you better have your cape on

Plenty homes Mansion many rooms

My necklace, 2Xs and three Bentley bulls

Lean back, lean back, lean back

'Cause he's back, come on

Lean back, lean back, lean back

'Cause he's back, come on

[Interlude 1: Lil Jon]

Eminem, what's up! Hey!

[Verse 2: Eminem], & Lil Jon

You don't want no problems with Harlem

You don't want no problems with the boogie-down Bronxster

You don't want no drama with the blonde bomber

Original Don Dada of the blonde bottle

The model from White America

Then Joe, the spokesperson for the Latino

Then we got Ma$e back to re-per-e-sent

E-ver-y-thing else in between

Including the percentages of the rest we don't

The best from each coast, the midwest to the dirty-dirty

Even further to Miami, all the way back to Californ-i-a

It'd probably be best right now if I warn Dre (Yo Dre)

To get on the horn and tell I'm about the storm coming all our way

So tell a pal, grab a gal right now, get on the floor, why wait?

Shake that ass a little more my way, but baby, I don't dance

Not that I can't, there's a pistol in my pants, come on

[Chorus: Fat Joe]

Said my niggas don't dance

We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway

Now lean back, lean back

Lean back, lean back, come on

Said my niggas 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 3: Remy Ma]

Ayo, Remy pop but I'm hot like an out of state spot

And anybody think I'm not, you're found in a vacant lot

You don't really wanna run with the one chick

Who smoke dutchess for lunches, da castle hill, I ain't luncheon

Now, it's on it for the Terror Squad

Pun, Prospect, Sunshine, Geddy, Crack and Remy Ma

It's not a chick in the game want it

My 16 so mean, put 20 G's and my chain on it

Quick to flip, I ain't the average chick

I'm packin' a MAC in the back of the forty-five past six

And you know, I got enough goons to crush a country

Any dude disrespectin' Pun, he better play then run C

Bring your mans and then we handle him

Then we gon' Timbaland trample 'em, then we pull the cans in them

Lean back 'cause I ain't never worry

See, I'm forever glory, smackin' up any chick in my territory

[Chorus: Fat Joe]

Said my niggas don't dance

We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway

Now lean back, lean back

Lean back, lean back

Said my niggas 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 4: Fat Joe & Lil Jon]

No Judas or cowardice or Cain's brother

Abel is able to stop me, nigga, not me!

Got the streets asking "Damn, who can top P?"

Summer Jam? Killed it, man, I did it all with one beat

I guess I'm bi-coastal now

Took a down south brother to bring your boy out (What?!)

As the wheel keeps spinning

I can hear niggas thinking, "Crack got one hit, then he out"

Nope! Joey bring them semi's out

Force you and yours to pour a little Henny out

So much rappers acting in the game

I had to tell them put the mic away and run and get your Emmy's out (Uh)

Lean back, motherfuckers (Yeah)

This here's a three-peat, we back at the Rucker

It's Cook Coke Crack, preach it to ya, brother

The Mike Moore rap and preach you motherfuckers

[Chorus: Fat Joe]

Said my niggas don't dance

We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway

Now lean back, lean back

Lean back, lean back

Said my niggas don't dance

We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway

Now lean back, lean back

Lean back, lean back

Come on

[Outro: Lil Jon]

Said my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats

And say blow your back away, fuck nigga

Lean back, lean back

Lean back, lean back

I said my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats

And say blow your back away, bitch nigga

Lean back, lean back

Lean back, lean back

Hey!