Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ VERSE 1: ]
Niggas got me steamin, to flip 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 case you some shit
Cause I been rhymin way back when
Straight up and the heart is how it's always been
Now punk niggas wanna me
But all that tiggedy-tiggedy shit don't impress me
It's just a phase, and you know damn
That you'll fall off in a minute, cause that shit sell
how you think you could surpass me, or outlast me
With bullshit style, you're fallin fast, gee
See, I suggest you go where 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 time I show ya
We one time, you're dead, no sequel
(Your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal) -->

You know we're one
Competition is

[ 2: Psycho Les ]
The Psycho Les drops it like a lunatic
Steady back-breakin bitches with my super
on the jim, sometimes 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, check out what we
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get chopped in the Nut Shop, we waste time
Yo, I'm 'cold like Flavor
Floatin at the top while sick, and 'nothin can save ya'
like the Biz said
Remember - uugh! - styles I drop to be, is it?
(The shizzit) to your mama
I bend your girl like a
Due to Lambada, I think I
Stop, because the said, "(???)"
So I nutted, and I got out
(Boom!) No matter how hot you to be, you can't roast 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 reck-
On with Fashion, cause by the way I'm rippin
Whoever thinks I a loss has hamstrings
Young dames, I shoot em and aims to knock her
Sex with this flex, best tends to lock up
Yeah, really bad ass, past you niggas
The I stick shit with, I love your figures
Triggers, I pull em no remorse for bodies
Fash pumps the hotties, chumps pump with
Shoot em up, bang-bang! Miss targets
Mics I touch up, I em daily
Barely another who can the cool Fash
Asses I kick in the ashes, trashes
So don't riff, cause I swift 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
Cool Fash, sendin a blast to rap
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)