Luyện nghe bài hát Finger Lickin' Good

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

Well, Mike d, up?
Yo, what's up?
Come on, Mike, let's it up
no evil, see no evil, talkin' no bullshit
So damn people are so damn full of it
Keyboard Money Mark, you know he havin' it
Just give him 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
got bigger buns than my man Paul Bunyan's
I've been going gettin' all cooped-up
Fully hermitizing but now I'm souped-up
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 special of the day
You see, I've got more spice the frugal gourmet

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

Well, Mike D, you got for me?
Show good people what it means to be D
Well they call me Mike D 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 bulb flashing at the top of my head
Never up on the wrong side of the bed
You're an man, not a yes-man
With a point to make, bound to take a stand
Cause I'm Pete the Puma, the Moocher
Got every type of or style that will suit 'ya
You know the bass is real fat, because gotta' be like that
A snare on the tin, and a taste of the high-hat

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

Ey yo, Yauch up?
D, what's up?
Come on Yauch, let's it up
Well, I could a groove like a flash in the dark
I a hold of your attention like a thief in the park
'Cause I can flip a rhyme off the tip of my
Yeah, I be switching up the like the rhyme's a piece of chewing gum
Now I might chew, but I don't
My ideas are mine I begin to write
In my sleep I'll be thinking 'bout and
on the mic and busting some 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 thrift
I won't scuff nor scuffle, grin as they walk by
time to rhyme for a girl I hear talk fly
Down papaya, down with the revolution
Always wear my goggles, there's so much pollution
I can do the Freak, the Patty Duke, and the
Gotta free the funky from the funky fish tanks
I'll sell my house, my car, and I'll sell all my stuff
"I'm going back to New York City, I do I've had enough"

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