[Intro] [Spoken, casual lounge banter] Ew, J. A. Slaughter. Let’s get out of here. [A brief pause] Wait— Do that again. Ohhh. That’s so cocky. [Verse 1] [Slow, swaggering barrelhouse piano and brushed snare] Fresh-pressed starch On a Sunday suit Got a flask of juice That’ll make you mute Step through the velvet Make ’em drop their eyes Blind tiger shakin' Underneath the disguise Big roll Heavy lead Sharp topper On my head If I want it I’m gonna take it If I got it— Gotta flaunt it [Pre-Chorus] [Muted trumpet sighs in the background] Ooh— What you call that? Slicker than an alley cat With a five-cent gat Ooh— Yeah, I love that If it make the high-hats rattle hard— [DROP / CHORUS] [Horns punch in with full 1920s swing, walking bass kicks hard] That’s so cocky Bounce That’s so cocky Drop Make ’em wanna Make ’em wanna Give you all the scrip they got That’s so cocky Pop That’s so cocky Stop Everybody looking like— Who let this slicker get so hot? That’s so That’s so That’s so cocky [Post-Chorus] [Stuttering, breathy delivery] C-c-c-cocky Bootleg problem C-c-c-cocky Every flapper want some C-c-c-cocky Honey, that’s a compliment If it got the whole room shifting— You know what it is [Verse 2] [Upright bass hums a heavy groove, piano rolls loosely behind the beat] Gleaming spats Pinstripe coat Got a five-dollar gold piece In my throat Front seat Cabaret Room key Slip away Cherry in the bootleg rye Phone off—wait, no, let ’em cry If you came to spill the dry law Don’t bring that jaw near me I like Big laughs Tight squeeze More glass Pianist play that rag one more time I ain’t hitting the sidewalk yet [Pre-Chorus] Ooh— What you call that? Smooth enough to pull you in Fast enough to burn it flat Ooh— Yeah, I love that If it make the brass go— [DROP / CHORUS] That’s so cocky Bounce That’s so cocky Drop Make ’em wanna Make ’em wanna Give you all the scrip they got That’s so cocky Pop That’s so cocky Stop Everybody looking like— Who let this slicker get so hot? That’s so That’s so That’s so cocky [Bridge] [Music strips down to a dry, snapping rhythm and intimate baritone murmur] Pretty? Cocky. Paid? Cocky. Turning every whispered threat To center stage? Cocky. Fresh orchids? Cocky. Fast roadster? Cocky. Making some copper nervous When you stroll past? So cocky. [Beat Cut] [Silence for a second, ice clinking in a glass] Wait. Turn around. …Yeah. [DROP] [Explosive full-band speakeasy jazz explosion] THAT’S SO COCKY Bounce-bounce Drop-drop Pop-pop Don’t stop Bounce-bounce Drop-drop Make the whole joint— POP. [Final Chorus] That’s so cocky High life, dark night That’s so cocky Everything sitting just right Little bit slick Little bit flashy Little bit “coppers never catch me” If it makes you feel electric If it makes you feel fantastic Baby— That’s so That’s so That’s so cocky [Outro] [Fading into vintage vinyl crackle, distant crowd murmur] Fresh. Sharp. Paid. Outside. That’s so cocky.
