Crooked I - No Competition[2011] | Текст песни

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• Crooked I
• No Competition[2011]

Okay I'm bottle poppin', I'm hollin' COB
I'm in Colorado rockin', deep in that 303
I got a model jockin´, she say her man´s a physician
I tell her mommy stop it, bitch ain't no competition
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
Ain't no competition, bitch ain't no competition
My city behind me, your bitch beside me
You haters come find me and on this microphone
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
My city behind me, your bitch beside me
You haters come find me and on this microphone

[Verse 1]
Where my haters at? Where my haters at?
Said I was dead when I left the afro, hell no nigga I made it back
Now y'all niggas gotta fade the black, so damn hungry I ate the map
I'm the beast the West Coast in the belly of in the stripclub and I'm raining stats
Name another artist who harder than me, who smarter than me
I'm smart as a Harvard degree, in the dark i'mma spar with the beat
Don't argue with me, these artists are weak, I'm arguably
The best with these bars so they start to talk about Soundscan
I made a small fortune without y'all importing endorsement fucking with poundscan
Just made fifty grand as a middle man, did it ten times again didn't give a damn
Did it ten times again now I'm fucking with a million I didn't even have to touch one kilogram
I remember when you rappers were broke, now you tryna target the fan
Talking 'bout you bought off dope, homeboy that's your marketing plan
Fly as fur I was flexin' aside, passenger seat you was catching a ride
Ain't nothing wrong with catching a ride but something wrong with niggas that I catch in a lie
Back to the flow, passing you ho's like Green Bay Packers (?)
Passionate though, throw cash on the flow then I'm macking ya ho' going back to the mall

[Hook]
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
Ain't no competition, bitch ain't no competition
My city behind me, your bitch beside me
You haters come find me and on this microphone
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
My city behind me, your bitch beside me
You haters come find me and on this microphone

[Verse 2]
Where my haters at? Where my haters at?
Where my Raiders hat? Where my Chuck Taylors at?
Cause I'm feeling like Cube in this prime spitting that gasoline no vaseline
Name another dude on his grind working like hackmachine go ask ya team
Music is losing his mind, shit is like a travesty it's so whack to me
I could put a hundred dudes in a line and they all practically sound the goddamn same
COB we the best in the bizz, you ain't gotta give me the crown cause I took it
In the past ten years when it comes to this lyrical spitting tell me who fucking around with young Crooked
The answer is none, rappers are done, grab for ya gun, fast when I come niggas getting lit up
I'm popping like Pac in the nineties, niggas get hit up
Finish any nigga that thinking that he gon' run upon the general, criminal, on general principal
I'mma get mo' bullet the momentum is gon' spin em around then I'mma give em another round get rid of em
Ladies and gentlemen I'm the future, the whole wide world is COB
You on your grind than I salute ya, sooner or later you gon' see
What's our only mission, knock you out the number one position
Opposition, I got ninety nine problems one ain't competition though

[Hook]
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
Ain't no competition, bitch ain't no competition
My city behind me, your bitch beside me
You haters come find me and on this microphone
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
Ain't no competition, ain't no competition
My city behind me, your bitc

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