Luyện nghe bài hát Finger Lickin' Good

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

Well, Mike d, up?
Yo, what's up?
on, Mike, let's tear it up
Hear no evil, see no evil, talkin' no
So damn people are so damn full of it
Keyboard Money Mark, you he ain't havin' it
Just give him some wood and he'll you a cabinet
I'm convinced that is rippin' me off
I it's his girdle that's tippin' me off
Well, Mike D's out back and growin' onions
I've got bigger than my man Paul Bunyan's
I've been nuts gettin' all cooped-up
Fully hermitizing but now I'm getting
It's to turn the page to a brand new chapter
Settin' my sights and you what I'm after
I'll be in the paper the news with Ernesto
even print my recipe for pasta with pesto
Now here's another of the day
You see, I've got spice than the frugal gourmet

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

Well, D, what you got for me?
Show these people what it means to be D
Well they call me D with the mad-man style
I put the mic up to my lips and I can for a while
Created a sound at many were shocked at
I've got a million ideas that I ain't even yet
I've got the light bulb at the top of my head
wake up on the wrong side of the bed
You're an man, not a yes-man
a point to make, you're bound to take a stand
Cause I'm the Puma, Minnie the Moocher
Got every type of flavor or style that suit 'ya
You know the bass is real fat, it's gotta' be like that
A snare on the funky tin, and a of the high-hat

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

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

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