Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ 1: Ju-Ju ]
Niggas got me steamin, bout to my lid
around, and I proceed to blow your back out, kid
(Boom!) Not to say I'm on a tip
But my hand stays on my gun, in you start some shit
Cause I been since way back when
up and from the heart is how it's always been
Now punk wanna test me
But all that tiggedy-tiggedy shit don't impress me
It's just a phase, and you know damn
That you'll off in a minute, cause that shit don't sell
Funny how you think you could surpass me, or me
With bullshit style, you're fallin fast, gee
See, I suggest you go back where you from
(Your mic, and my mic) on, don't play, son
See, the days of payin is over
I'm a little fed up, and it's time that I ya
We one time, you're dead, no sequel
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal) --> Q-Tip

You know we're one
Competition is

[ 2: Psycho Les ]
The wiggedy-wicked Les drops it like a lunatic
Steady back-breakin with my super dick
Hat's on the jim, I nut in em
St. Ides fucks up their eyes, and I em
Down, I'm flowin to this nutty sound
Open up the knapsack, out what we found
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get chopped in the Nut Shop, we don't waste
Yo, I'm 'cold like Flavor
at the top while you're sick, and 'nothin can save ya'
Just like the Biz
Remember - uugh! - I drop to be, what is it?
(The shizzit) to your mama
I bend your girl like a
Due to Lambada, I I gotta
Stop, the bitch said, "(???)"
So I nutted, and I got out
(Boom!) No matter how hot you claim to be, you can't roast
Nut, what's up? You wanna get eaten up like a
'Cup', 'cake', you know my are lethal
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)

[ VERSE 3: (Al' Tariq) ]
Every line I connect, my literature's
Per minute, per second, and yo, you reck-
On with Fashion, cause by the way I'm things
Whoever thinks I a loss has hamstrings
Young dames, I shoot em and Jimmy aims to her
Sex this flex, best thing tends to lock up
Yeah, really bad ass, smokin past you
The I stick shit with, I love your figures
Triggers, I pull em with no remorse for
Fash the hotties, chumps pump with shoties
Shoot em up, bang-bang! targets rarely
Mics I touch up, I em daily
Barely another who can test the cool
I kick in the ashes, dumpin trashes
So don't riff, cause I flow swift the Nile, son
Tame is for plain fame, I'm a wild one
I let loose the
Fierce force in me
Cool Fash, sendin a to rap people
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)