No Competition by T.I. Lyrics
[Intro]
Ay, ay! Young Jeezy, let's get it, my nigga!
Rubber Band Man & Snowman in this bitch!
Ay! Ay! Y'all already know, man, y'all can't fuck wit us, man!
It's the King and the Killa, nigga!
C.T.E., P$C, what's happening?
[Verse 1: T.I.]
From the trap shit to all the rap shit
Gave you numbers on the bricks and all of that shit
They run up on the team, I bet they be fallin' back quick
Stack the magazine, I'm giving 'em all of that clip
Y'een heard the latest? Ho, ya fuckin' with the greatest
I know the pussy niggas and the sucka niggas hate us
But the lames can't fade us and ain't any way to rate us
Took the train when they see us 'cause there ain't no way to play us
The fame didn't make us and the Feds didn't take us
So we flamin' out in Vegas, private plane-ing in Jamaica
We the top two crews so it ain't a way to spray us
Lay us, down, nigga who, nigga where?
Dream about our deaths then wake up and say a prayer
Grab some tissue for this new asshole we finna tear
Ain't a handgun made for man that could prepare ya
Say what? Buck on us? I dare ya
[Chorus (sample)]
There is no competition!
[Interlude: Young Jeezy]
Yeah! Ay! You already know what it is, nigga!
C.T.E., U.S.D.A. for life nigga!
U.S.D.A is the clique, nigga! Ha-ha! Yeah!
Tip, what up, nigga? You already know what it is, nigga!
A-Town firehouse, nigga!
[Verse Two: Young Jeezy]
(Young Jeez!) Who me? I'm a coupe-driving, bird-flipping
O-serving, gun-toting, set-tripping, chicken-flipping
(Jeah!) Range-Roving, gat-toting, hay-smoking
(Let's get it!) You know I'm sack-holding (Ay!)
You could save the hating 'cause I do not need it
God damn, I'm so conceited (Ha-ha!)
You was rapping, I was trapping, I was busting, they was ducking
I was gunning, they was running, first nigga said something
Police-ass niggas, yeah they so suspicious (Ay!)
Blowing Cali kush, yeah, so delicious (Ha-ha!)
Grand Hustle and Corporate Thuggin'
You can ask ya girl, I'm the one she's loving
Four-four pound, my Cannons been Aphilliated (Damn!)
Damn right, nigga, A-Town's own
Mr. 17.5, I really got 'em for that
"Them niggas getting money", got a problem with that?
[Chorus]
[Outro: DJ MLK]
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on. This DJ MLK! Y'all know I don't talk too much on no goddamn mixtape. Nah, I got too much shit to be damn doin'. You know what I'm sayin'? I DJ seven-plus days a week in the damn city. You know! I just wanna shout out my [?] fam, I see ya! [?] H-Town in the goddamn building! Shout out [?]! Mars, I see ya!
Ay, ay! Young Jeezy, let's get it, my nigga!
Rubber Band Man & Snowman in this bitch!
Ay! Ay! Y'all already know, man, y'all can't fuck wit us, man!
It's the King and the Killa, nigga!
C.T.E., P$C, what's happening?
[Verse 1: T.I.]
From the trap shit to all the rap shit
Gave you numbers on the bricks and all of that shit
They run up on the team, I bet they be fallin' back quick
Stack the magazine, I'm giving 'em all of that clip
Y'een heard the latest? Ho, ya fuckin' with the greatest
I know the pussy niggas and the sucka niggas hate us
But the lames can't fade us and ain't any way to rate us
Took the train when they see us 'cause there ain't no way to play us
The fame didn't make us and the Feds didn't take us
So we flamin' out in Vegas, private plane-ing in Jamaica
We the top two crews so it ain't a way to spray us
Lay us, down, nigga who, nigga where?
Dream about our deaths then wake up and say a prayer
Grab some tissue for this new asshole we finna tear
Ain't a handgun made for man that could prepare ya
Say what? Buck on us? I dare ya
[Chorus (sample)]
There is no competition!
[Interlude: Young Jeezy]
Yeah! Ay! You already know what it is, nigga!
C.T.E., U.S.D.A. for life nigga!
U.S.D.A is the clique, nigga! Ha-ha! Yeah!
Tip, what up, nigga? You already know what it is, nigga!
A-Town firehouse, nigga!
[Verse Two: Young Jeezy]
(Young Jeez!) Who me? I'm a coupe-driving, bird-flipping
O-serving, gun-toting, set-tripping, chicken-flipping
(Jeah!) Range-Roving, gat-toting, hay-smoking
(Let's get it!) You know I'm sack-holding (Ay!)
You could save the hating 'cause I do not need it
God damn, I'm so conceited (Ha-ha!)
You was rapping, I was trapping, I was busting, they was ducking
I was gunning, they was running, first nigga said something
Police-ass niggas, yeah they so suspicious (Ay!)
Blowing Cali kush, yeah, so delicious (Ha-ha!)
Grand Hustle and Corporate Thuggin'
You can ask ya girl, I'm the one she's loving
Four-four pound, my Cannons been Aphilliated (Damn!)
Damn right, nigga, A-Town's own
Mr. 17.5, I really got 'em for that
"Them niggas getting money", got a problem with that?
[Chorus]
[Outro: DJ MLK]
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on. This DJ MLK! Y'all know I don't talk too much on no goddamn mixtape. Nah, I got too much shit to be damn doin'. You know what I'm sayin'? I DJ seven-plus days a week in the damn city. You know! I just wanna shout out my [?] fam, I see ya! [?] H-Town in the goddamn building! Shout out [?]! Mars, I see ya!