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

What's Up (Can We Rock)

Can we
Yeah, up doc?
Can we
What's up

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

I thought I saw a 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 humpty dumpty camel hump nose
So play dosey doe, sucotash my mistletoe is gone
Snow White is after my seven dwarves, my styles, and me Lucky Charms
So leapin' leprechauns, be I'm pushin' my pedal to the metal
I'm rugged and rough for Puffs, and yes, I love my Fruity Pebbles
So howdy, my partner, I to get meaner
So ask Bob for hope, nope, not Mr. Bob
Oh were has my mic gone? me, have you seen her?
I stretch a condom and gets 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, contrary, and Captain Crunch berry good
So rah rah, sis bah
Chip Fu is again, give thanks and praises to jah
My lyrics are smooth like the head on Terry
My starts to quicken like Speedy Gonzales
Take up pen, your pad, your lyrical bag and run go whole a fresh
Touche pussy cat, put that mic 'cause you can't rap
'cause I'm dip-dip-divin', so
out your ears, yes, and open up your eyes and
I kick like Bruce Lee and Jean Van Damme
So nana 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 yes the Schnickens can pick 'em
I burp, stick 'em, ha ha ha, 'em

Rippin' the program, slow man, hot
I grand slam, swingin' things and again (whoo)
Golly ha-chooey, macho like
Randy Savage manwitch, swingin' the with damage
Pauish not nor monetego
Spanish que for the nine two lingo
Next, a new hex, commentators stand
Stringin' emcees like a bikini or panty (ha ha)
Nut you might bust, but you can't come right
the strokin' or hopin' or pullin' a peace pipe
Huff and puff so the fuck is happening?
On the lyrical, miracle,
but rockin'
Flip a new hit, catch wreck to the nine
Equipped, slip with tounge twister
All my styles that's
No rap, I push pounds
I flip mad and hips, I hit
So bring the oh boy-ah, as I say hasta manana
Soft and chewy Honky Kong fooey, reggae not rasta stuff
Can I

I'm the hooper, the
Protected by
When I rock the hoop yo, you'd decipher
In other words you'd better make a decision (whoo)
I'm a be a Shaq knife, and cut you with precision
Forget Tony Danza, I'm the
When it to money, I'm like Dick Butkas
Now who's the first pick? me, word is and
Not a Christean Laettner, not Mourning
That's okay, not being
Supercalifragelistic, is alidocious
Peace, I go, I ain't no joke
Now I it (what?) jam it (unh)
And make sure broke