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
two scoops a raisin in the sun
Brothers try to up, then dilly dally for some room
Bird peckin', doulbe deckin', neckin' in my tomb
it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg
Play me like a like Penguin and the Joker
Snoopin' in my biz like Tom and Roker
So bust the freaky freaky ways
The brothers with the guise making G's
And now we're records overseas
Holy smokes, oops, your whole goofed up
Now you get kicks, 'nough licks, plus up
you can catch a quick drop for tryin' to take the Schnicks' props
So tick tock the clock and shock while we lick shots
(Boom!) for goodness sakes the stakes are
I'm out (you out?)
ABC-ya, bye

I thought I saw a cat, I did
I did the humpty dumpty bashful grumpy quaker nabisco kid
'cause my figaro figaro figaro figaro like Pinochio's
Big Digital Underground dumpty camel hump nose
So play dosey doe, sufferin' my mistletoe is gone
Snow White is 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 Puffs, and yes, I love my Fruity Pebbles
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, have you seen
I stretch like a and gets plump like a weiner
Or a sasuage, but of it's, time for Chip to wreck it
But before my I gots to check it
So who is the nicest in your
Lyrics are merry, merry, quite contrary, and Crunch berry good
So rah rah, sis bah
Chip Fu is coming again, give and praises to jah
My lyrics are smooth like the head on Terry
My tounge starts to like Speedy Gonzales
Take up your pen, your pad, your bag and run go whole a fresh
Touche cat, put down that mic 'cause you can't rap
I'm dip-dip-divin', so socializin'
Clean out your ears, yes, and open up your and
I like Bruce Lee and Jean Claude Van Damme
So nana nana nana nana nana, Batman!
I hip-hop,
Don't-don't,
I'm harder a Flinstone and much bigger than a Chub Rock
Our types of lyrical yes the Schnickens 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
Spanish que for the nine two lingo
Next, a new hex, stand aside
Stringin' emcees a bikini or panty line (ha ha)
Nut you might bust, but you can't come right
Spite the strokin' or hopin' or pullin' a pipe
Huff and puff so the fuck is happening?
On the lyrical, miracle,
but everybody's
Flip a new hit, wreck to the nine ship
Equipped, never with tounge twister
All my styles buckwild
No fake rap, I pounds
I flip mad and hips, I hit
So bring the goya oh boy-ah, as I say hasta
Soft and chewy Kong fooey, reggae not rasta tough stuff
Can I

I'm the hooper, the
Protected by
I rock the hoop yo, you'd better decipher
In other words you'd better make a funky (whoo)
I'm a be a Shaq knife, and cut you with precision
Forget Danza, I'm the boss
When it comes to money, I'm like 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 go, I ain't no joke
Now I it (what?) jam it (unh)
And make sure broke