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 stays on my gun, in case you start some shit
Cause I been rhymin since way when
Straight up and from the heart is how it's always
Now punk niggas wanna me
But all that tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin don't impress me
It's just a phase, and you know well
That you'll off in a minute, cause that shit don't sell
Funny how you think you could surpass me, or me
With that style, you're fallin fast, gee
See, I suggest you go back you came from
(Your mic, and my mic) Come on, play, son
See, the days of payin is over
I'm a fed up, and it's time that I show ya
We battle one time, dead, no sequel
(Your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal) -->

You know number one
Competition is

[ 2: Psycho Les ]
The wiggedy-wicked Psycho Les drops it a lunatic
back-breakin bitches with my super dick
Hat's on the jim, I nut in em
St. Ides fucks up their eyes, and I em
Down, while I'm flowin to nutty sound
up the knapsack, check out what we found
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get in the Nut Shop, we don't waste time
Yo, I'm 'cold lampin' Flavor
Floatin at the top while sick, and 'nothin can save ya'
Just the Biz said
Remember - uugh! - I drop to be, what is it?
(The shizzit) Word to your
I your girl 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 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)

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