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the beatnuts - no equal lyrics

(number one
compet-tion is none) –> rakim

[ verse 1: ju-ju ]
n-gg-s got me steamin, bout to flip my lid
f-ck 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 sh-t
cause i been rhymin since way back when
straight up and from the heart is how it’s always been
now punk n-gg-s wanna test me
but all that tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin sh-t don’t impress me
it’s just a phase, and you know d-mn well
that you’ll fall off in a minute, cause that sh-t don’t sell
funny how you think you could surp-ss me, or outlast me
with that bullsh-t 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
compet-tion is none

[ verse 2: psycho les ]
the wiggedy-wicked psycho les drops it like a lunatic
steady back-breakin b-tches with my super d-ck
hat’s on the jim, sometimes i nut in em
st. ides f-cks 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-h-rns, b-ss, 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 b-tch 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
s-x with this flex, best thing tends to lock up
yeah, really bad -ss, smokin past you n-gg-s
the chicks i stick sh-t 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 f-cks em daily
barely another who can test the cool fash
-sses 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)

- the beatnuts lyrics

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