What's Up Doc? (Can We Rock?) Testo

Chorus Can we rock? Yeah, what's up doc? Can we rock? What's up doc? r pa dukes? Theres two scoops a raisin in the sun Brothers try to rally up, then dilly dally for some room Bird peckin, doulbe deckin, rubber neckin in my tomb Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk Play me like a punk like Penguin and the Joker Snoopin in my biz like Tom and Roxie Roker So bust the freaky freaky freaky ways The brothers with the Asian guise making Gs And now were sellin records overseas Holy smokes, oops, your whole plan goofed up Now you get kicks, nough licks, plus cuffed up cause you can catch a quick drop for tryin to take the Schnicks props So tick tock around the clock and shock while we lick shots for goodness sakes the stakes are high I'm out ABC-ya, bye Chip I thought I saw a putty cat, I did I did the humpty dumpty bashful grumpy quaker nabisco crisco kid cause my styles figaro figaro figaro figaro like Pinochios Big Digital Underground humpty dumpty camel hump nose So play dosey doe, sufferin sucotash my mistletoe is gone Snow White is after my seven dwarves, my styles, and after me Lucky Charms So leapin leprechauns, be glad Im pushin my pedal to the metal Im rugged and rough for Cocoa Puffs, and yes, I love my Fruity Pebbles So howdy, my partner, I starts to get meaner So ask Bob for hope, nope, not Mr. Bob Dobailina Oh were has my mic gone? Tell me, have you seen her? I stretch like a condom and gets plump like a weiner Or a sasuage, but of course its, time for Chip to wreck it But before my intro I gots to check it So who is the nicest in your neighborhood? Lyrics are merry, merry, quite contrary, and Captain Crunch berry good So rah rah, sis boom bah Chip Fu is coming again, give thanks and praises to jah My lyrics are smooth like the head on Terry Savalas My tounge starts to quicken like Speedy Gonzales Take up your pen, your pad, your lyrical bag and run go whole a fresh Touche pussy cat, put down that mic cause you cant rap cause I'm dip-dip-divin, so socializin Clean out your ears, yes, and open up your eyes and I kick like Bruce Lee and Jean Claude Van Damme So dunna nana nana nana nana nana, Batman! I hip-hop, hop-hop Dont-dont, stop-stop Im harder than a Flinstone and much bigger than a Chub Rock Our types of lyrical styles? yes the Schnickens can pick em I burp, stick em, ha ha ha, stick em