T.I. — No Competition

[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!