Back Off Songtext
von Fu‐Schnickens

Yo check this out
Brothas better just back off
Cause we hittin hard
For ′91
Cause we're the Fu-Schnickens
We got Kung, we got Pac, yo we got Chip
And I′m the ultimate mix
So let's do this


Back off sonny and back off
Let the breeze cool me off
MC Chip will come to show
And prove the Schnickers on assault
As I figure a way to flip style
Son I'm the type to wild
And as I grab my pen and my pad
God man put down these lyrics
In the kitchen got glass
And son of my style
Chip Fu you get no respect
Flippin these lyrical dialects
Without any defects
Thinkin of a master plan
To pull in my dan
And make you understand
Make you wonder damn
How could one man cram
All these lyrical styles together
Which is singin, rappin, and chattin
When I grip a microphone
In front of a crowd
That′s when it happens
That′s why when an MC tries to test me
I just sigh no matter what I'm a do
Or what I′m a try they still can't decide
The perfectionist
Multi-talented verbal ambidextrous one
Listen to many styles son
But this man is the skilled one
Supreme being overseeing
What′s afloat to be seen
Self knows his self
When it's never have to redeem my soul
From the white man or the bite jam
Cause when Chip Fu enter the place
It′s a bam bam
Yo I was diggin the lyrical styles
When I was young now I'm much older
Just like Bob Marley
I'm a Buffalo Soldier
Not a dreadlocked Rasta
But you know I got to prove myself
Cause there′s many MCs
Just MCs on this roster
So to stop the noise
And spread the joys
And puffin the cool
Son I won′t play the fool
And prove that I'm right
And the Schnickers rule
So I twist and bend
Lyrical ragamuffin slang
The style friend
Part of my culture
From the get-go
So yo I won′t pretend
To use this accent
That sounds somewhat different from the rest
When I twist and caress the microphone
And prove that I'm the best
In other words me just a come
In other words me just a done
And if I don′t want no idiot MC
Becomes just a run me down
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
To check out my lyrical style
And pattern′s like
Men and men a pass the shirt
And women a dress up in a frock
So I'll no never
I'll no never
Learn fi rhyme
Learn fi rhyme
Just pick up the mic and talk
Yes a session a go cock
So let me get up to the barrel
Claw whether you′re live or dead stock
That′s the germ but it's not the point
That I′m trying to come off with
Back off from the mic man
Before you get frost bit
Cause emceein' is essential
Writin rhymes is fundamental
Given a razor, pen, thick chalk
Pencil, lemon, or pencil
I′ll come off
Whoever the rapper jack
Jack is a must
And if an MC tries to test
He's gonna bite the dust
Dust, dust
And then talk bust
And he′ll bite fi di wid di dust
So follow me massive
Follow me so
And listen to me
I ride on freedom's like a bronco
Kissin basslines like a pony
I'm Mr. Chip
The one who rips
And spit and he says
Come catch a bit
And I won′t quit
I′m low key feelin equipped
So watch me drop it
Back off
Why don't you get out of town by high noon
I′m not a senior
And this doesn't make you go mmm
So I assume when an MC hears the tune
They′re gonna quit
Scatter like crumbs
And little crumbs and bits and bits
So pass the mic not left to right
But right to left
And just like Steven Seagal
An MC's gonna be marked for death
Surprised I hope not
Don′t think I'm a goody-goody
So I drop it and I'mma save this
In G-Symba lands and hoodie
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

Listen if many or any MC
Steps while the track drops
I′ll get vexed effects
And pick up the mic just like a platter
So run MCs run
The owner fi di wid di mic
I come truly
Have lyrics in a sense of
Worthiness at any thousand
Cause I always flow calmin
Without no harm in
But I snatch and squeeze the microphone
Like Mr. Whips me Charlie
For a quote and you know
I clear my throat from all the phlegm
Then I murder them
Murder them
Walk up on any microphone
Just like some mushroom things
Better believe I kick a pram
Plus I′m too contagious
And my lyrics are sick
For sure my label
Call it the China brush
Cause I don't use Aspartic
To make any crowd panic
No sub 100
Yes the Tan Lang panic
Which is what the microphone
I got its own cause I′m the boss
No drugs in my system
Just Moebian Irish Moss
Cause I'm standing by a base
And I′m a rhyme that
Any ghetto from Too Short
And I'm a rhyme that
Bust a move from young MC
And I′m a rhyme that
Yes and Vanilla Ice is a idiot
So just give me room
And let me pass
Like Labor Day I'll play my master
Prove that I'm a real man
And play MCs just like Skip
I′ll leave the mic alone
Yes and retire for a while
And don′t nobody touch this
Don't nobody touch this
Please don′t touch this style
Yes 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