Cypress Hill - Finger Lickin' Good lyrics

It's finger lickin', finger lickin' good, y'all Finger lickin', a finger lickin' good, y'all It's finger lickin', finger lickin' good, y'all It's finger lickin', finger lickin' good, y'all Lickin'-lickin', uh Lickin'-lickin', uh Lickin'-lickin', uh Lickin'-lickin', uh Well, Mike d, what's up? Yo, Yauch what's up? Come on, Mike, let's tear it up Hear no evil, see no evil, talkin' no bullsh** So many damn people are so damn full of it Keyboard Money Mark, you know he ain't havin' it Just give him some wood and he'll build you a cabinet I'm convinced that Vince is rippin' me off I think it's his girdle that's tippin' me off Well, Mike D's out back and he's growin' onions I've got bigger buns than my man Paul Bunyon's I've been going nuts gettin' all cooped up Fully hermitizing but now I'm getting souped up It's time to turn the page to a brand new chapter Settin' my sights and you know what I'm after I'll be in the paper the news with Ernie Ernesto They'll even print my recipe for pasta with pesto Now here's another special of the day I've got more spice than the frugal gourmet It's finger lickin', finger lickin' good, y'all Finger lickin', a finger lickin' good, y'all It's finger lickin', finger lickin' good, y'all It's finger lickin', finger lickin' good, y'all Lickin'-lickin', uh Lickin'-lickin', uh Lickin'-lickin', uh Lickin'-lickin', uh Well, Mike D (huh), what you got for me? Show these good people what it means to be D Well they call me Mike d with the mad man style I put I put the mic up to my lips and I can scream for a while Created a sound at which many were shocked at I've got a million ideas that I ain't even rocked yet I've got the light bulb flashing at the top of my head Never wake up on the wrong side of the bed You're an idea man, not a yes man With a point to make, you're bound to take a stand Cause I'm Pete the Puma, Minnie the Moocher Got every type of flavor or style that will suit ‘ya You know the ba** is real fat, because it's gotta' be like that A snare on the funky tin, and a taste of the high-hat Finger lickin', finger lickin' good, y'all Finger lickin', a finger lickin' good, y'all It's finger lickin', it's finger lickin' good, y'all A finger lickin', a lickin', lickin' good, y'all Yo, Yauch what's up? Mike D, what's up? Come on Yauch, let's tear it up Well, I could catch a groove like a flash in the dark I grab a hold of your attention like a thief in the park ‘Cause I can flip a rhyme off the tip of my tongue Yeah, I be switching up the rhythm like the rhyme's a piece of chewing gum Now I might chew, but I don't bite My ideas are mine when I begin to write In my sleep I'll be thinking 'bout beats and Getting on the mic and busting some treats and Sportin' the crazy funky threads that you've never even seen before What I'm lackin' from the mackin' I can find at the thrift store I won't scuff nor scuffle, just grin as they walk by Take time to rhyme for a girl I hear talk fly Down some papaya, down with the revolution Always wear my goggles, ‘cause there's so much pollution I can do the Freak, the Patty Duke, and the Spank Gotta free the funky fish from the funky fish tanks I'll sell my house, sell my car, and I'll sell all my stuff "I'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough" Whipped-whipped-whipped cream Whipped-whipped-whipped cream We're gonna' be out of her in a minute So this one goes out to my man, Mario C My brother Adrock, cuttin' it up on the turntable Yeah, finger lickin' good, y'all DJ Hurricane is finger lickin' good, y'all