Luyện nghe bài hát Ring The Alarm

Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye

Ring the alarm, I don't wanna calm cause
I'm about to rip this
the mic is gripped my lyrics do split up like
Bombs from

'Cause I'm sweet, neat, I romp or skinteet
I lick with my tongue
And rhymes I with my teeth
This prophet you can't stop this from the West Indies

You can tell I'm a lyrical prophet from the words and broken up
In these and scrolls that I unfold
The knowledge I use does make me
The in my system

Converts and becomes wisdom
in Trinidad, not Tobogo, land of steel pan and Calypso
Cyop is a and a buck is a cyop
That's the real true thing and a natural

This lyrical man you can't me back
From the red, the white, and also the
Island, which is my land, my place of
You can tell by the that's swung

And the lyrical structure in me
So all MC's cross this border
by now you should know sort of
Lyrically but now I despise

All that's out of order
try to test any of the Schnickens
'Cause I'm not with the lyrical boxin'
The beatin' and the

Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye
the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye

You two-facety, you can't me
And my rhymes bite and learn
Soon acknowledge my lyrical substance just like a bookworm
Chip FU, you will extend and show all the youth them

me big 'boutcha under roots and culture
And the bad in the pen
Because I grip the mic
(Yes, man)
All MC's they do yes and hush

Any mic I touch, any mic I brush, any mic I
With these styles of such
And if I do unleash a masterpiece
Lyrics never cease, then a piece I'll unleash and it brief

Please don't yes or thief
C H I P FU is my name, it will stay just the
Give me any mic on stage in a rage engage
And drop just the same

Quote for quote, note for note, did you
So jack it up and it up operator
Wheel and come
'Cause MC's try these Rastafarianic raps and sound wanna-be's

But a wanna-be's not what I to be
See the have to be
The true free
Free to preach FU-Schnick

We thee untouchable, matchable, MC's for unity
Me, a Rastafarian, no not me but I do
I'm not Jamaican, so all MC's you better run
Because Mr. Chip FU man a

And me sitdong pon de riddim sitdong pion de
A de don
True me full up a style and me wicked and
With peer pattern watch how me it in a verb

And capsize it in a
Uno give I and I respect
this Trinidadian I come
out

Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye

Phenomenon one, phenomenon two, phenomenon
Come me
POC the rough-neck chicken and I'm the wild Apache
See I'm the C the H the I the P

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
I preach and teach and educate all ghetto youth about

But wait, let me get set not to
But to get something
All MC's come out good styles
And all of them do sound

But ring the alarm and don't calm
Because I won't
lyrical styles that I compile
To preach and teach and educate me, a new jack
(Who's that)

When you were at the parties rapping and scratching I did a
On tape, on and cassette, you'll hear me live and direct
Yes and who never hear me yet when you hear my it's perfect
So just pack up because your lyrics are weak you speak

Don't step so back up, wake up, take off the make-up
The mic I'll break up
MC's from limb, slim me trim
You see me, I don't follow no style and I don't no pattern

So take to this lesson I bring or the lesson I brought
Which was to one and another
All slack MC's better the alarm
In words, run for cover