[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 n***a!)
Uhh! Yeah, Harlem is back (Lil Jon n***a!)
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 n***as don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway
Now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
Said my n***as 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 n***as 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 n***as 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 n***as don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway
Now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
Said my n***as 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, n***a, 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 n***as 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 n***as don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the rockaway
Now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
Said my n***as 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 n***as don't dance we just pull out our gats
And say blow your back away, fuck n***a
Lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
I said my n***as don't dance we just pull out our gats
And say blow your back away, bitch n***a
Lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
Hey!