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 dally for some room
Bird peckin', doulbe deckin', rubber in my tomb
Check it out yo, I like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by egg yolk
Play me like a like Penguin and the Joker
Snoopin' in my biz like Tom and Roker
So bust the freaky freaky ways
The with the Asian guise making G's
And now we're records overseas
Holy smokes, oops, whole plan goofed up
Now you get kicks, licks, plus cuffed up
'cause you can catch a quick for tryin' to take the Schnicks' props
So tick tock around the clock and shock while we 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 grumpy 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 seven dwarves, my styles, and me Lucky Charms
So leprechauns, be glad I'm pushin' my pedal to the metal
I'm rugged and rough for Cocoa Puffs, and yes, I love my Fruity
So howdy, my partner, I to get meaner
So ask Bob for hope, nope, not Mr. Bob
Oh has my mic gone? Tell me, have you seen her?
I stretch like a condom and gets like a weiner
Or a sasuage, but of it's, time for Chip to wreck it
But before my intro I to check 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 coming again, give and praises to jah
My are smooth like the head on Terry Savalas
My tounge starts to like Speedy Gonzales
Take up pen, your pad, your lyrical bag and run go whole a fresh
Touche pussy cat, put down that mic 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 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 lyrical yes the Schnickens can pick 'em
I burp, 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em

Rippin' the program, man, hot damn
I grand slam, swingin' things again and (whoo)
ha-chooey, macho like Roscoe
Randy Savage manwitch, swingin' the ding-a-ling with
not antoinish nor monetego
Spanish like que for the nine two
Next, a new hex, commentators stand
Stringin' emcees like a bikini or line (ha ha)
Nut you might bust, but you can't even come
Spite the or hopin' or pullin' 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, slip with tounge twister
All my that's buckwild
No fake rap, I push
I mad scripts and hips, I hit
So bring the 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
I rock the hoop yo, you'd better decipher
In other words you'd better make a funky (whoo)
'cause I'm a be a knife, and cut you with precision
Forget Danza, I'm the boss
When it comes to money, I'm like Dick
Now who's the pick? me, word is born and
Not a Laettner, not Alonzo 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