Ring the Alarm

Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Ring the alarm, I don't wanna stay calm cause
 I'm about to rip this Psalm
 When the mic is gripped my lyrics do split up like
 Bombs from Vietnam
 'Cause I'm sweet, neat, I don't romp or skinteet
 Lyrics I lick with my tongue
 And rhymes I nymn with my teeth
 This lyrical prophet you can't stop this from the West Indies
 You can tell I'm a lyrical prophet from the words spoken and broken up
 In these books and scrolls that I unfold
 The knowledge I use does make me bold
 The intelligence in my system
 Converts itself and becomes wisdom
 Born in Trinidad, not Tobogo, land of steel pan and Calypso
 Cyop is a buck and a buck is a cyop
 That's the real true thing and a natural fact
 This lyrical man you can't hold me back
 From the red, the white, and also the black
 Island, which is my land, my place of birth
 You can tell by the tongue that's swung
 And the lyrical structure in meSo all MC's don't cross this border
 'Cause by now you should know sort of
 Lyrically wise but now I despise
 All youth that's out of order
 Don't try to test any of the Schnickens
 'Cause I'm not done with the lyrical boxin'
 The beatin' and the lickin'
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 You two-facety, you can't face me
 And my rhymes you'll bite and learn
 Soon you'll acknowledge my lyrical substance just like a bookworm
 Chip FU, then you will extend and show all the youth them
 That me big 'boutcha under roots and culture
 And the bad bull in the pen
 Because when I grip the mic
 (Yes, man)
 All MC's they do stop yes and hush
 Any mic I touch, any mic I brush, any mic I clutch
 With these lyrical styles of such
 And if I do unleash a lyrical masterpiece
 Lyrics never cease, then a piece I'll unleash and make it brief
 Please don't bite yes or thief
 C H I P FU is my name, it will stay just the same
 Give me any mic on stage in a rage I'll engage
 And drop rhymes just the same
 Quote for quote, note for note, did you comprehend
 So jack it up and pull it up operator
 Wheel and come again
 'Cause MC's try these Rastafarianic raps and sound like wanna-be's
 But a wanna-be's not what I want to be
 See the FU-Schnickens have to be
 The true prophets free
 Free to preach FU-Schnick prophecies
 We thee untouchable, matchable, stoppable MC's for unity
 Me, a Rastafarian, no not me but I do stun
 I'm not faking Jamaican, so all MC's you better run
 Because Mr. Chip FU man a come
 And me sitdong pon de riddim sitdong pion de vibes
 A de hartical don
 True me full up a style and me wicked and wild
 With peer pattern watch how me chat it in a verb
 And capsize it in a noun
 Uno better give I and I respect
 When this Trinidadian I come
 Sing out
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Ring the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
 Phenomenon one, phenomenon two, phenomenon three
 Come follow me
 POC FU's the rough-neck chicken and I'm the wild Apache
 See I'm the C the H the I the P
 Down with the P the O the C, the K the U the N the G
 The M the O, yes and the C
 And when the M the I the C is in my H the A-N-D
 I preach and teach and educate all ghetto youth about unity
 But wait, let me get set not to sweat
 But to get something straight
 All MC's come out with good styles
 And all of them do sound great
 But ring the alarm and don't stay calm
 Because I won't procrastinate
 These lyrical styles that I compile
 To preach and teach and educate me, a new jack brother
 (Who's that)
 When you were at the parties rapping and scratching I did a chat
 On tape, on tape and cassette, you'll hear me live and direct
 Yes and who never hear me yet when you hear my voice it's perfect
 So just pack up because your lyrics are weak when you speak
 Don't step so just back up, wake up, take off the make-up
 The mic because I'll break up
 MC's limbs from limb, slim me trim
 You see me, I don't follow no style and I don't follow no pattern
 So take head to this lesson I bring or the lesson I brought
 Which was taught to one and another
 All slack MC's better ring the alarm
 In other words, run for cover