No Equal Lyrics

(Number One
Competition is none) --> Rakim

[ VERSE 1: 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

[ VERSE 2: 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 timeAlpha - No Equal - http://motolyrics.com/alpha/no-equal-lyrics.html
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)

[ VERSE 3: 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)