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

What's Up (Can We Rock)

Can we
Yeah, what's up
Can we
What's up

Cha cha cha cha cha
What's up pa, yo who
ma dukes or pa dukes?
There's two a raisin in the sun
try to rally up, then dilly dally for some room
Bird peckin', doulbe deckin', neckin' in my tomb
it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk Penguin and the Joker
Snoopin' in my biz like Tom and Roker
So bust the freaky freaky ways
The brothers the Asian guise making G's
And now sellin' records overseas
Holy smokes, oops, your whole plan up
Now you get kicks, 'nough licks, plus up
'cause you can catch a quick drop for to take the Schnicks' props
So tick tock around the clock and while we lick shots
(Boom!) for goodness sakes the stakes are
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 dumpty camel nose
So dosey doe, sufferin' 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 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 gets like a weiner
Or a sasuage, but of course it's, time for Chip to it
But before my intro I gots to it
So who is the nicest in neighborhood?
Lyrics are merry, merry, quite contrary, and Captain Crunch berry
So rah rah, sis bah
Chip Fu is again, give thanks and praises to jah
My lyrics are smooth like the head on Savalas
My tounge starts to like Speedy Gonzales
Take up your pen, your pad, your lyrical bag and run go a fresh
pussy cat, put down 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 Bruce 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 and much bigger than a Chub Rock
Our types of styles? yes the Schnickens can pick 'em
I burp, stick 'em, ha ha ha, 'em

Rippin' the program, slow man, hot
I grand slam, swingin' again and again (whoo)
Golly ha-chooey, like Roscoe
Savage manwitch, swingin' the ding-a-ling with damage
Pauish not nor monetego
Spanish like que for the nine two
Next, a new hex, commentators aside
emcees like a bikini or panty line (ha ha)
Nut you might bust, but you can't even come
the strokin' or hopin' or pullin' a peace pipe
Huff and puff so the fuck is happening?
On the lyrical, miracle,
but everybody's
a new hit, catch wreck to the nine ship
Equipped, never slip tounge twister
All my styles buckwild
No fake rap, I push
I flip mad and hips, I hit
So the goya oh boy-ah, as I say hasta manana
and chewy Honky Kong fooey, reggae not rasta tough stuff
Can I

I'm the hooper, the
Protected by
When I rock the hoop yo, better decipher
In other words you'd better a funky decision (whoo)
I'm a be a Shaq 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 Mourning
okay, not being bragadocious
Supercalifragelistic, is alidocious
Peace, I gotta go, I ain't no
Now I it (what?) jam it (unh)
And make it's broke