No Equal Lyrics by Beatnuts, The

No Equal Lyrics

    (number one
    Competition is none) --> rakim

    [ verse 1: ju-ju ]
    Niggas got me steamin, bout to flip my lid
    Fuck around, and i proceed to blow your back out, kid
    (boom!) not to say i'm on a violent tip
    But my hand stays on my gun, in case you start some shit
    Cause i been rhymin since way back when
    Straight up and from the heart is how it's always been
    Now punk niggas wanna test me
    But all that tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin shit don't impress me
    It's just a phase, and you know damn well
    That you'll fall off in a minute, cause that shit don't sell
    Funny how you think you could surpass me, or outlast me
    With that bullshit style, you're fallin fast, gee
    See, i suggest you go back where you came from
    (your mic, and my mic) come on, don't play, son
    See, the days of payin dues is over
    I'm a little fed up, and it's time that i show ya
    We battle one time, you're dead, no sequel
    (your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal) --> q-tip

    You know we're number one
    Competition is none

    [ verse 2: psycho les ]
    The wiggedy-wicked psycho les drops it like a lunatic
    Steady back-breakin bitches with my super dick
    Hat's on the jim, sometimes i nut in em
    St. ides fucks up their eyes, and i bend em
    Down, while i'm flowin to this nutty sound
    Open up the knapsack, check out what we found
    H-h-horns, bass, lines
    Beats get chopped in the nut shop, we don't waste time
    Yo, i'm 'cold lampin' like flavor
    Floatin at the top while you're sick, and 'nothin can save ya'
    Just like the biz said
    Remember - uugh! - styles i drop to be, what is it?
    (the shizzit) word to your mama
    I bend your girl like a comma
    Due to lambada, i think i gotta
    Stop, because the bitch said, "(???)"
    So i nutted, and i got out
    (boom!) no matter how hot you claim to be, you can't roast this
    Nut, what's up? you wanna get eaten up like a hostess?
    'cup', 'cake', you know my words are lethal
    (your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal)

    [ verse 3: fashion (al' tariq) ]
    Every line i connect, my literature's perfect
    Per minute, per second, and yo, you gotta reck-
    On with fashion, cause by the way i'm rippin things
    Whoever thinks i take a loss has hamstrings
    Young dames, i shoot em and jimmy aims to knock her
    Sex with this flex, best thing tends to lock up
    Yeah, really bad ass, smokin past you niggas
    The chicks i stick shit with, i love your figures
    Triggers, i pull em with no remorse for bodies
    Fash pumps the hotties, chumps pump with shoties
    Shoot em up, bang-bang! miss targets rarely
    Mics i touch up, i fucks em daily
    Barely another who can test the cool fash
    Asses i kick in the ashes, dumpin trashes
    So don't riff, cause i flow swift like the nile, son
    Tame is for plain jane fame, i'm a wild one
    Auto-matic-ly i let loose the
    Fierce mc-i-n-g force in me
    Cool fash, sendin a blast to rap people
    (your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal)

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