Luyện nghe bài hát What's Up Doc? (Can We Rock)

What's Up (Can We Rock)

Can we
Yeah, up doc?
Can we
up doc?

Cha cha cha cha cha
What's up pa, yo who
Your ma or pa dukes?
two scoops a raisin in the sun
Brothers try to rally up, then dilly dally for room
Bird peckin', deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb
it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me a punk like Penguin and the Joker
Snoopin' in my biz Tom and Roxie Roker
So bust the freaky freaky ways
The brothers with the Asian guise G's
And now we're sellin' records
Holy smokes, oops, your plan goofed up
Now you get kicks, 'nough licks, plus up
'cause you can a quick drop for tryin' to take the Schnicks' props
So tick tock around the clock and while we lick shots
(Boom!) for sakes the stakes are high
I'm out (you out?)
ABC-ya, bye

I I saw a putty cat, I did
I did the humpty dumpty grumpy quaker nabisco crisco kid
'cause my style's figaro figaro figaro like Pinochio's
Big Digital Underground humpty camel hump nose
So play dosey doe, sufferin' sucotash my mistletoe is
Snow is after my seven dwarves, my styles, and after me Lucky Charms
So leprechauns, be glad I'm pushin' my pedal to the metal
I'm rugged and rough for Cocoa Puffs, and yes, I love my Pebbles
So howdy, my partner, I starts to get
So ask Bob for hope, nope, not Mr. Bob
Oh were has my mic gone? me, have you seen her?
I stretch like a condom and plump like a weiner
Or a sasuage, but of course it's, time for to wreck it
But before my intro I to check it
So who is the nicest in your
Lyrics are merry, merry, quite contrary, and Captain berry good
So rah rah, sis bah
Chip Fu is again, give thanks and praises to jah
My are smooth like the head on Terry Savalas
My tounge starts to quicken like Speedy
Take up your pen, pad, your lyrical bag and run go whole a fresh
Touche cat, put down that mic 'cause you can't rap
'cause I'm dip-dip-divin', so
Clean out ears, yes, and open up your eyes and
I kick like Lee and Jean Claude Van Damme
So dunna nana nana nana nana, Batman!
I hip-hop,
Don't-don't,
I'm harder than a Flinstone and bigger than a Chub Rock
Our types of lyrical styles? yes the Schnickens can 'em
I burp, 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em

Rippin' the program, man, hot damn
I grand slam, things again and again (whoo)
Golly ha-chooey, macho Roscoe
Randy manwitch, swingin' the ding-a-ling with damage
Pauish not antoinish nor
like que for the nine two lingo
Next, a new hex, stand aside
Stringin' like a bikini or panty line (ha ha)
Nut you might bust, but you even come right
the strokin' or hopin' or pullin' a peace pipe
Huff and puff so what the fuck is
On the lyrical, miracle,
but everybody's
a new hit, catch wreck to the nine ship
Equipped, never slip with twister
All my styles that's
No fake rap, I push
I mad scripts and hips, I hit
So bring the oh boy-ah, as I say hasta manana
Soft and chewy Kong fooey, reggae not rasta tough stuff
Can I

I'm the hooper, the
by Viper
When I rock the yo, you'd better decipher
In other you'd better make a funky decision (whoo)
'cause I'm a be a knife, and cut you with precision
Forget Tony Danza, I'm the
When it comes to money, I'm Dick Butkas
Now who's the pick? me, word is born and
Not a Christean Laettner, not Alonzo
That's okay, not being
Supercalifragelistic, is alidocious
Peace, I gotta go, I no joke
Now I it (what?) jam it (unh)
And make sure broke