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
up doc?

Cha cha cha cha cha
What's up pa, yo who
Your ma or pa dukes?
There's two a raisin in the sun
Brothers try to rally up, dilly dally for some room
Bird peckin', deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like 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 Roxie
So bust the freaky freaky freaky
The brothers with the Asian making G's
And now sellin' records overseas
Holy smokes, oops, your whole plan up
Now you get kicks, licks, plus cuffed up
'cause you can a quick drop for tryin' to take the Schnicks' props
So tock around the clock and shock 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 bashful 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, sufferin' sucotash my mistletoe is
Snow White is after my dwarves, my styles, and after me Lucky Charms
So leapin' leprechauns, be I'm pushin' my pedal to the metal
I'm rugged and for Cocoa 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, you seen her?
I like a condom and gets plump like a weiner
Or a sasuage, but of it's, time for Chip to wreck it
But before my intro I gots to it
So who is the nicest in your
Lyrics are merry, merry, quite contrary, and Captain Crunch good
So rah rah, sis bah
Chip Fu is coming again, give and praises to jah
My lyrics are smooth like the on Terry Savalas
My tounge starts to quicken like Gonzales
Take up pen, your pad, your lyrical bag and run go whole a fresh
Touche pussy cat, put down that mic 'cause you rap
'cause I'm dip-dip-divin', so
Clean out your ears, yes, and open up your 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 Flinstone and much bigger than a Rock
Our types of lyrical styles? yes the Schnickens can 'em
I burp, stick 'em, ha ha ha, 'em

Rippin' the program, slow man, hot
I grand slam, swingin' again and again (whoo)
ha-chooey, macho like Roscoe
Randy manwitch, swingin' the ding-a-ling with damage
not antoinish nor monetego
Spanish like que for the two lingo
Next, a new hex, commentators stand
Stringin' emcees like a or panty line (ha ha)
Nut you might bust, but you can't even come
Spite the strokin' or hopin' or pullin' a 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 with tounge twister
All my styles buckwild
No fake rap, I push
I flip mad and hips, I hit
So bring the goya oh boy-ah, as I say hasta
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 make a funky decision (whoo)
I'm a be a Shaq knife, and cut you with precision
Forget Danza, I'm the boss
When it to money, I'm like 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 go, I ain't no joke
Now I it (what?) jam it (unh)
And make sure it's