la la la excuse me miss again
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
Hold up -- skip all the singing let's get right tonight, mami