Luyện nghe bài hát Finger Lickin' Good

It's finger lickin', good, y'all
lickin', a-finger-lickin' good, y'all
It's lickin', finger-lickin' good, y'all
finger lickin', finger-lickin' good, y'all

Well, Mike d, up?
Yo, Yauch up?
Come on, Mike, let's it up
Hear no evil, see no evil, no bullshit
So damn people are so damn full of it
Keyboard Money Mark, you know he ain't it
Just give him some wood and he'll you a cabinet
I'm convinced that Vince is me off
I think it's his girdle that's me off
Well, Mike D's out back and he's growin'
I've got bigger buns my man Paul Bunyan's
I've been going nuts all cooped-up
hermitizing but now I'm getting souped-up
It's time to the page to a brand new chapter
Settin' my sights and you know I'm after
I'll be in the the news with Ernie Ernesto
They'll even print my for pasta with pesto
Now here's special of the day
You see, I've got more spice than the gourmet

Finger lickin', good, y'all
It's Finger lickin', good, y'all
It's lickin', finger-lickin' good, y'all

Well, D, what you got for me?
Show these good people it means to be D
Well they call me Mike D with the mad-man
I put the mic up to my lips and I can scream for a
Created a at which many were shocked at
I've got a ideas that I ain't even rocked yet
I've got the light bulb at the top of my head
Never wake up on the side of the bed
You're an idea man, not a
With a point to make, you're bound to take a
I'm Pete the Puma, Minnie the Moocher
Got every type of flavor or style that will 'ya
You know the bass is real fat, because it's gotta' be that
A on the funky tin, and a taste of the high-hat

Finger lickin', finger-lickin' good,
Finger lickin', good, y'all
It's finger lickin', it's finger-lickin' good,
lickin', finger-lickin' good, y'all

Ey yo, Yauch up?
D, what's up?
Come on Yauch, let's it up
Well, I could catch a groove like a flash in the
I grab a hold of your attention a thief in the park
'Cause I can flip a off the tip of my tongue
Yeah, I be switching up the rhythm like the rhyme's a of chewing gum
Now I might chew, but I don't
My are mine when I begin to write
In my sleep I'll be thinking 'bout and
Getting on the mic and busting treats and
Sport the crazy threads that you've never even seen before
What I'm lackin' from the mackin' I can find at the store
I won't scuff nor scuffle, grin as they walk by
Take time to for a girl I hear talk fly
Down some papaya, with the revolution
Always my goggles, 'cause there's so much pollution
I can do the Freak, the Duke, and the Spank
Gotta free the funky fish from the funky tanks
I'll sell my house, sell my car, and I'll sell all my
"I'm going back to New York City, I do believe had enough"

gonna' be out of her in a minute
So this one goes out to my man, C
My Adrock, cuttin' it up on the turntable
Yeah, lickin' good, y'all
DJ is finger lickin' good, y'all