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Versuri Beatnuts - No Equal
Versuri-versuri.ro > Versuri Litera B > Versuri Beatnuts > Miscellaneous - No Equal[ 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 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 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)
- Groot De Boudewijn
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