Lyrics
Where the Fu Schnickens at, fool?
Chip Fu, nigga
La Smoove 'cause we ain't got nothing to prove
Yeah, yeah, uh-huh
Yeah, yeah
All right, come on
Shit's wack, uh-huh
And where the Fu Schnickens at?
It's Chip Fu
Yo, Ras Kass, thanks for the big ups
If you ever need me, brethren, call me, I'ma pick up, I'm here
I ain't run this race to take second place
Strive to be the best and still respect the greats
But ain't no one iller than me
Who you consider to be can get it too
And I ain't gotta name names, just take a selfie
Yeah, nigga, you
Money calling collect, send it through
I'm driven like ten to two
East Coast, West Coast, old school, new school
Black nigga, white boys
Ain't even in the conversation if you don't write, boy
Seems like overnight, boy
We was mixing Kool-Aid and Night Train
Back in the days, nigga called me Raisin' in the 9th grade
They wasn't playing Black music on MTV
Except Michael Jackson and Prince, that ain't street, no offense
Then The Box opened doors and hardcore got exposure
And regional rappers got the chance to be heard all over
Black Entertainment Television took hip hop over the top
Underground artists going mainstream, even pop
Thanks to Washington D.C., then it stopped
2000, November 3, when Bob Johnson sold BET
Viacom watered it down, gentrified the town
Took the messages out and simplified the sound
No more Tavis Smiley, they canceled Teen Summit
They phased out the bars and dumbed it down to the dumbest
Ugh, shit's wack
And where the Fu Schnickens at?
It's just me, I'm the last of a dying breed
And until my last breath, just keep your eye on me
For real
Somebody call Shaq
Does this now make you the greatest, are you now the GOAT?
It's Chip Fu, I'm setting levels like I did before
I ain't where none of y'all nigga at, I'm on a different floor