La-La-La [Excuse Me Miss Again] lyrics

Whooo! Whooo!

Memph Bleek always smoking that la la la

Beanie Sigel always smoking that la la la

Neptunes tracks smoke like la la la

It's the Roc, baby; sing our lullaby (C'mon)

Excuse me miss, I'm the shit

You should come hang with me, basically

Hold up -- skip all the singing, let's get right tonight, mami

I know my English ain't as modest as you like

But come, get some, you little bums

I take the cake from under the baker's thumb

I bake the cake and two it up from one

Then I moved the weight like I'm Oprah, son

Uhh, I show you how to do this son

Young don't mess with chicks in Burberry patterns

Fake Manolo boots straight from Steve Madden

He patterns his-self, the rap JFK

You wanna pass for my Jacqueline Onassis, then

Hop ya ass out that S-Class

Lay back in the Maybach, roll the best grass, I ask

Have you in your long-legged life

Ever seen a watch surrounded by this much pink ice?

Look but don't touch, motherfucker, think twice

'Cause this gat that I clutch gotta little red light

Need a light?

(To smoke that la la la)

Beanie Sigel always smoking that la la la

Memph Bleek always smoking that la la la

It's the Roc, mami; sing our lullaby

C'mon

Excuse me miss, I'm the shit

You should come hang with me, basically

Hold up -- skip all the singing, let's get right tonight, mami

We got bottles full of Arme, mamis in Manolo

Bags by Chanel or Louis Vuitton logos

All attracted to Hov because they know dough

When they see him, whips be European

If you're a 10 chances you're with him

If you're a 5 you know you riding with them

Sick with the pen, nigga -- no physician in the world could fix him

No prescription you can prescribe to subside his affliction

He's not a sane man, he's more like Rain Man, twitching

You can't rain dance on his picnic

No Haitian voodoo, no headless chickens

Can dead his sickness, no Ouija board

You can't see me, dog; nigga, ya CB4

This ain't Chris Rock, bitch -- it's the Roc, bitch

And I'm the franchise like a Houston Rocket

Yao Ming?

Still smoking that la la la

Memph Bleek still smoking that la la la

Beanie Sigel, Desert Eagle the .45

It's the Roc, baby; sing our lullaby

C'mon

Excuse me miss, I'm the shit

You should come hang with me, basically

Hold up -- skip all the singing, let's get right tonight, mami

Forget English, talk body language

I be all over mamis like body paint is

Pink diamond necklace, strawberry wrist

Please excuse yourself, you're very sick

Don't confuse me with Marbury out this bitch

Run up on me at the light, you could lose your life

Motherfuckers must be smoking they la la la with crack

Forty-five gun smoke, choke off that

Let's get back to the music, I ain't with all that

Plus the Feds tapping my music -- y'all get all that?

I'm the public industry #1

Public industry #2 is my whole crew (R.O.C.!)

Now I ain't down with who like me or who like you

That's gay, I ain't into liking dudes no way

But get a pen, I can tell you pricks my plans for the future

I never make the news again, my man'll shoot ya

As we smoke that la la la

Memph Bleek still smoking that la la la

Beanie Sigel, Desert Eagle the .45

It's the Roc, bitch; sing our lullaby

C'mon

Excuse me miss, I'm the shit

You should come hang with me, basically

Whoa! Skip all the singing let's get right tonight, mami

Do you want me to do it?