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 finger lickin', good, y'all

Well, Mike d, up?
Yo, what's up?
Come on, Mike, tear it up
Hear no evil, see no evil, no bullshit
So many damn people are so full of it
Keyboard Mark, you know he ain't havin' it
Just him some wood and he'll build you a cabinet
I'm convinced that is rippin' me off
I think his girdle that's tippin' me off
Well, Mike D's out back and he's onions
I've got buns than my man Paul Bunyan's
I've been going gettin' all cooped-up
hermitizing but now I'm getting souped-up
It's time to turn the to a brand new chapter
Settin' my sights and you know I'm after
I'll be in the paper the news with Ernie
They'll even my recipe for pasta with pesto
Now here's special of the day
You see, I've got more than the frugal gourmet

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

Well, D, what you got for me?
Show these good 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 which many were at
I've got a million ideas that I ain't even yet
I've got the light flashing at the top of my head
Never up on the wrong side of the bed
an idea man, not a yes-man
With a to make, you're bound to take a stand
Cause I'm Pete the Puma, Minnie the
Got every type of flavor or style that suit 'ya
You know the bass is real fat, because it's gotta' be that
A snare on the funky tin, and a taste of the

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

Ey yo, what 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 like a in the park
'Cause I can a rhyme off the tip of my tongue
Yeah, I be switching up the rhythm like the rhyme's a piece of gum
Now I might chew, but I bite
My are mine when I begin to write
In my sleep be thinking 'bout beats and
Getting on the mic and busting treats and
Sport the crazy funky threads that you've never even before
What I'm lackin' the mackin' I can find at the thrift store
I scuff nor scuffle, just grin as they walk by
Take time to rhyme for a girl I talk fly
Down some papaya, down the revolution
Always my goggles, 'cause there's so much pollution
I can do the Freak, the Patty Duke, and the
Gotta free the funky fish from the fish 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 out to my man, Mario C
My brother Adrock, cuttin' it up on the
Yeah, finger lickin' good,
DJ Hurricane is finger good, y'all