Letra da Música La La La de De La Soul

La la laaaaaaa
La la laaaaaaa, laaaaaaaaaaaah...

[Posdnuos]
Papa Love be on the attack, survival Jack
Pot, and a lot of it's fat, part of the pack
Not signing blood with his back, bottle for knack
And we ain't backpack, we backbone
But that's how rap be
My own kids can't see they pops
'cause I'm onstage in some city makin someone else kids happy
Doin things that ain't over 'til the big lady sings
But since the world is so health-conscious
The big gal lost weight, so we rock non-stop the date
Give me a hard road to walk, I walk mines
Similar to blood that won't stay in the chalk line -
I won't stay boxed in!
Worth every penny the recod companies lend me
Sam Cooke-d the fish, but darling +You Send Me+
Creep out the mouth with the house like Mr. Fisher
When I want out the picture
My zodiac is commonly known as the proudest
(So even when I whisper..) it still sounds the loudest
That's just that Ny, Ny shit in me
But smart enough to know no one stay the epitome
(Where?) In this game
But the aim is to clock out, covered in quality hip-hop
The sureshot'll sure to get the cop-out
Work out the kinks, month later hear it in the club
While Smilez go work out the drinks
La la laaaaaaa
La la laaaaaaa, laaaaaaaaaaaah...
La la laaaaaaa
La la laaaaaaa, laaaaaaaaaaaah...

It's New York like murder and pavement
Nuttin pretty like floral arrangement
In case you study the stars in amazement
A modest millionaire constellations where Dave went
Cavemen die out, {?} just dry out
Afrika is suspect, is apart tides out
We pull the punches, never menat to roll wit' 'em
Poppa taught me if they don't come then go get 'em
Two weeks slingin this drug and no women
But don't get it twisted, I'll never go (Ultra!)
Snap into default and be the twat poacher
Circle in the sky, oh cussin like Blowfly
Chemist cut perscription, see this is a faux pas
Handin {?} to those who didn't know I
Got some Spaniard in me, yo I never act um (Ultra!)
Thank you Kool Herc for giving us the culture
Coke crack and deals whatever road-in you go for
Singing 'til the fat bitch decides to do tofu
If I don't know you, well here's the introduction
Music entertainin and conjunction
We should have a lunch-in, cold cuts, servin these Donuts
Dilla, If Ya Hear Me We Are Missin You So Much
Dilla, if ya hear me we are missin you so much
De La twenty years, held up like brassieres