Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ VERSE 1: ]
got me steamin, bout to flip my lid
Fuck around, and I proceed to blow 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 rhymin since way back
Straight up and the heart is how it's always been
Now punk wanna test me
But all that tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin shit don't me
just a phase, and you know damn well
That you'll fall off in a minute, cause that shit sell
Funny how you think you could me, or outlast me
With that bullshit style, you're fast, gee
See, I suggest you go back you came 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 that I show ya
We one time, you're dead, no sequel
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal) --> Q-Tip

You we're number one
is none

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

[ 3: Fashion (Al' Tariq) ]
Every line I connect, my perfect
Per minute, per second, and yo, you gotta
On with Fashion, cause by the way I'm rippin
Whoever thinks I a loss has hamstrings
Young dames, I shoot em and Jimmy to knock her
Sex with this flex, best thing tends to up
Yeah, really bad ass, past you niggas
The chicks I stick shit with, I love your
Triggers, I pull em with no remorse for
pumps the hotties, chumps pump with shoties
Shoot em up, bang-bang! Miss targets
Mics I touch up, I em daily
Barely another who can the cool Fash
I kick in the ashes, dumpin trashes
So don't riff, cause I flow like the Nile, son
is for plain Jane fame, I'm a wild one
Auto-matic-ly I let the
Fierce MC-i-n-g in me
Fash, sendin a blast to rap people
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)