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 me verse   So 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 Schnikens   '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