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
Your ma dukes or pa
There's two a raisin in the sun
Brothers try to rally up, then dilly dally for some
Bird peckin', doulbe deckin', rubber in my tomb
it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like Penguin and the
in my biz like Tom and Roxie Roker
So bust the freaky freaky ways
The brothers with the Asian guise G's
And now we're sellin' overseas
smokes, oops, your whole plan goofed up
Now you get kicks, 'nough licks, plus up
'cause you can catch a quick drop for tryin' to take the props
So tick tock the clock and shock while we lick shots
(Boom!) for sakes 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 bashful quaker nabisco crisco kid
'cause my style's figaro figaro figaro figaro Pinochio's
Big Digital Underground dumpty 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 leapin' leprechauns, be glad I'm pushin' my pedal to the
I'm rugged and rough for Cocoa Puffs, and yes, I love my Fruity
So howdy, my partner, I starts to get
So ask Bob for hope, nope, not Mr. Bob
Oh were has my mic gone? Tell me, you seen her?
I stretch a condom and gets plump like a weiner
Or a sasuage, but of course it's, for Chip to wreck it
But before my intro I gots to it
So who is the in your neighborhood?
Lyrics are merry, merry, quite contrary, and Captain Crunch good
So rah rah, sis bah
Fu is coming again, give thanks and praises to jah
My lyrics are smooth like the head on Savalas
My tounge starts to quicken like Speedy
up your pen, your pad, your lyrical bag and run go whole a fresh
Touche pussy cat, put down that mic 'cause you rap
I'm dip-dip-divin', so socializin'
Clean out your ears, yes, and 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 much bigger a Chub Rock
Our types of lyrical styles? yes the can pick 'em
I burp, 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em

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

I'm the hooper, the
by Viper
When I rock the yo, you'd better decipher
In words you'd better make a funky decision (whoo)
'cause I'm a be a knife, and cut you with precision
Tony Danza, I'm the boss
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 it's broke