Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ 1: Ju-Ju ]
Niggas got me steamin, to flip my lid
Fuck around, and I proceed to blow your 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 since way when
up and from the heart is how it's always been
Now punk niggas wanna me
But all that tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin don't impress me
It's a phase, and you know damn well
That you'll fall off in a minute, cause shit don't sell
how you think you could surpass me, or outlast 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 dues is
I'm a little fed up, and it's that I show ya
We battle one time, 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 Psycho Les drops it like a
Steady back-breakin bitches with my dick
on the jim, sometimes I nut in em
St. Ides up their eyes, and I bend em
Down, while I'm flowin to this nutty
Open up the knapsack, check out we found
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get in the Nut Shop, we don't waste time
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 like a comma
Due to Lambada, I think I
Stop, the bitch said, "(???)"
So I nutted, and I got out
(Boom!) No matter how hot you claim to be, you roast this
Nut, what's up? You wanna get eaten up like a
'Cup', 'cake', you know my words are
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)

[ VERSE 3: (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 things
Whoever thinks I take a loss has
Young dames, I em and Jimmy aims to knock her
Sex with flex, best thing tends to lock up
Yeah, bad ass, smokin past you niggas
The chicks I shit with, I love your figures
Triggers, I pull em no remorse for bodies
Fash the hotties, chumps pump with shoties
Shoot em up, bang-bang! Miss targets
Mics I up, I fucks em daily
Barely another who can test the Fash
Asses I kick in the ashes, trashes
So don't riff, I flow swift like the Nile, son
Tame is for plain Jane fame, I'm a one
Auto-matic-ly I let the
MC-i-n-g force in me
Cool Fash, sendin a blast to rap
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)