What's Up Doc? (Can We Rock) [feat. FU-Schnickens]

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

What's up, pa, your how poops?

Your ma dukes are pa dukes

There's two scoops to raisin' in the sun

Brothers try to rally up then dilly dally for some room

Bird peckin', double deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb

Check it out, yo, I smile like Groucho Marx

I make a joke, hokey poke, and slide by like egg yolk

Play me like a punk, like the 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 makin' G's

And now we 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 Schnick's props

So tick tock around the clock and shock while we lick shots

For goodness sakes the stakes is high, I'm out

ABC ya, bye

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

I thought I saw a putty cat, I did

I did the Humpty Dumpty bashful grumpy Quaker Nabisco Crisco kid

'Cause my style's figaro, figaro, figaro, figaro like Pinocchio's

Big digital underground, underground

Humpty Dumpty camel hump nose

So play dosey doe, sufferin' succotash my mistletoes gone

Snow white is after the seven dwarves

My styles and after me Lucky Charms

So leapin' 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 Pebbles

So howdy, my partner, I starts to get meaner

So ask Bob for hope, nope, not Mr. Bob Dobalina

Oh, where has my mic gone? tell me, have you seen her?

I stretch like a condom gets plump like a weiner

A sausage, of course it's time for Chip to wreck it

But before my intro gotta pass the mic, check it

So who is the nicest in your neighborhood?

Your lyrics are merry, merry, quite contrary

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 tongue starts to quicken like Speedy Gonzales

Take up your pen, your pad, your lyrical bag and run, go whole a fresh

Touché, pussy cat, put down that mic 'cause you can't 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 duna, duna, duna, duna, duna, duna, Batman

I hip, hip, hop, hop, don't, don't stop, stop

I'm harder than a Flintstone and much bigger than a Chub Rock

Our types of lyrical styles? yes, the Schnickens can pick 'em

I brrr, stick 'em, ha ha ha, stick 'em

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Rippin' the program, slow man, hot damn

I grand slam, swingin' things again and again

Golly ha-chewy, macho like Roscoe

Randy Savage man-witch, swingin' the ding-a-ling with damage

Pauish not Antoinish nor Montego

Spanish like, que, for the nine two lingo

Next a new hex, commentators stand aside

Stringin' MCs like a bikini or panty line

Nuts you night bust, but you can't even come right

Despite the strokin' or hopin' or pullin' a peace pipe

Huff and puff so what the **** has happened?

On the lyrical, miracle, spiritual

But everybody's rockin'

Flip a new hit, catch wreck to the nine ****

Equipped, never slip, concept of a tongue twister

All my style, that's buckwild

No fake raps, I push pounds

I flip mad scrips and hips, I hit

So bring the go-ya, oh, bo-ya, as I say hasta mañana

Soft and chewy, honky kong fooey, reggae not rasta, tough stuff

Can I rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

I'm the hooper, the hyper

Protected by a viper

When I'm at the hoop, and yo, you'd better decipher

In other words, you'd better make a funky decision

'Cause I'ma be a Shaq knife and cut you with precision

Forget Tony Danza, I'm the boss

When it comes to money, I'm like Dick Butkus

Now who's the first pick? me, word is born and

Not a Christian Laettner, not Alonzo Mourning

That's okay, not being braggadocios

Supercalifragelistic, Shaq is alidocious

Peace, I gotta go, I ain't no joke

Now I slam it, jam it, and make sure it's broke

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?

Can we rock?

What's up, doc?