paroles de chanson No Equal - The Beatnuts
Rakim:
(Number
One
Competition
is
none)
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
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)
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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