Back Off -

Yo, check this out, brothers better just back off

'Cause we hitting hard for '91 'cause we the Fu-Schnickens

We got Kung, we got Poc, yo we got Chip

And I’m the ultimate Moc so let’s do this

You know what I’m saying?

Back off sonny and back off, let the breeze cool me off

MC Chip Fu comes to show and prove that Schnickens are not soft

'Cause I figured a way to flip styles

Son and I chat for a while and then smiled

Grab my pen and my pad and got mad

Then said to myself «Chip Fu — you’ll get 'nough respects»

Flippin' these lyrical dialects without any defects

Thinkin' of a master plan to prove I’m a dan

And make you understand

Then you wonder «Damn, how could one man cram

All these lyrical styles together»

Which is singin', yappin' and chattin'

When I grip the microphone in front of the crowd

That’s when it happens

That’s why when an MC tries to diss me I just sigh

No matter what dem a-do or what dem a-try

Dem still can’t decide, the perfectionist

The multi talented, verbal, ambidextrous one

With so many styles son, but this man is st-still one

Supreme being overseeing what’s supposed to be seen

Self knows of self awareness, never have to redeem

My soul from the white man or the pipe, damn

'Cause when Chip Fu in a do place it’s a bam bam

Yo I was thinkin' of lyrical styles when I was young

Now, I’m much older

Just like Bob Marley I’m a buffalo soldier

Not a dreadlock rasta but you know I gotta prove myself

'Cause there’s many prestigious MCs on this roster

So to stop the noise and spread the joys I prefer to cool

So then I won’t play the fool

And prove that I’m writing the Schnickens rule

So I twist and bend lyrical raggamuffin slangs and styles, friend

Part of my culture from the get-go

So yo I won’t pretend to use this accent

To sound somewhat different from the rest

When I stress and caress the microphone

And prove that I’m the best

In other words me just a-come

In other words me just touch down

And me no want no idiot MC

Fe come test and run me dong

So back off

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Listen, now it’s my turn

Check out my lyrical style and pattern Jack

Man inna pants and shirts and man uman a dress up in a frock so

All who never, all who never learn fe rhyme, learn fe rhyme

Just pick up the mic and talk yes and a session ago cork

Uno better get up, stand up and rock more

Whether you’re alive or dead stock

That’s the joint but it’s not the point

That I’m trying to come off with

Back up from the mic man before you get frost

Because emceeing is essential

Writing rhymes is fundamental

Give me a place to be, BIC, chalk, stencil or number two pencil

I’ll come off to prove that with a map or chat Jack is a must

And if a MC tries to test, he’s gonna bite the dust

Dust, dust, him head top bust

And he will bite fidee dust

So follow me monsieur, follow me crew and listen to me

I ride like a bronco

Yes and like a pony

I’m Mr. Chip, the one who grips and spits

Up there hits, come catch a bit and I won’t quit

I’m lyrically fit and equipped

So watch me drop it, back off

Why don’t you get out of town by high noon

I’m not Arsenio and this doesn’t make you go hmm

So I assume when an MC hears this tune they’re gonna quit

Scatter like crumbs and little kibbles and bits and bits

So pass the mic, not left to right, but right to left

And just like Steven Seagal all MCs are gonna be marked for death

Surprised?

I hope not

Don’t think I’m a goody goody

So watch for the Don on stage

Dressed in jeans, Timberlands and hoody

And back off

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Yo, check this out, yo

Brothers tryna test the Fu

Yo, Chip

Yo, homeboy just back off

Yo, Chip I’m tellin' you — get busy man

Listen, if man-ne-me or enemy MC steps while this track drops

I’ll get vexed and flex and pick up the mic just like a

So run MCs, run, the owner fed up the mic, now come to me

Have lyrics in hand and yes and then the thousand

'Cause I always flow calm and without no harm

But I snatch and squeeze the microphone like Mr

Before I quote any note I clear my throat from all the phlegm

Then I murder them, murder them

Smoke and pull on the microphone just like some

You better believe I kick up, I’m too cantankerous

Now my lyrics are and strong

Like they were cooned with China brush

'Cause I don’t use horse tonic to make any crowd panic

No stunts one hundred yes, to tan lang pon it

Which is what the microphone, I got it sewn 'cause I’m the boss

No drugs in my system, just Moby and Irish moss

'Course Outstanding by Rob Base, a no rhyme dat

And The Ghetto by Too $hort, a no rhyme dat

Bust a Move from Young MC, a no rhyme dat

Yes and Vanilla Ice is a idiot

So just give me room and let me past

Like Labor Day I play, my master

Prove that I’m a real man

And play MCs just like steel pan

Leave the mic alone, yes and retire for a while

And do not touch this, do not touch this

Please don’t touch this style

Yes, back off

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money

Back off sonny and let me make my money