25 of My favorite Hip Hop verses of all time!!!!

Not every rapper is an MC, and not every MC is a lyricist. There are

great songs with stupid lyrics, and lyricists who have never made

great songs. It’s usually the beat that grabs you first. Sometimes

it’s the hook. But for the true hip hop fan, it’s the verses that

bring it home.

A verse could be dope because of how it feels when you rap along with

it, like Greg Nice on Dwyck or Nas on Live at the BBQ. Or it could be

the content that gets you like Rass Kass on Nature of the Threat. For

style, some of the best verses ever are on Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s Shimmy

Shimmy Ya.

For me, a great verse is one I could hold up as an example of how

truly poetic hip hop is. Jay Electronica, creator of many incredible

verses, once told me that Shakespeare got nothing on the best MCs.

When you read thru these verses, I bet you’ll agree.



shout out to www.rapgenius.com on the new deal, go there for accurate

(almost! the closest I’ve ever seen!) translations of some of these

lyrics



25 of my FAVORITE HIP HOP VERSES…OF ALL TIIIMMMEE!!!!!!!!



1. RAKIM, FOLLOW THE LEADER, VERSE ONE- ERIC B. AND RAKIM



Follow me into a solo

Get in the flow - and you can picture like a photo

Music mixed mellow maintains to make

Melodies for MC’s motivates the breaks

I’m everlastin, I can go on for days and days

With rhyme displays that engrave deep as X-rays

I can take a phrase that’s rarely heard, FLIP IT

Now it’s a daily word

I can get iller than ‘Nam, a killin bomb

But no alarm - Rakim will remain calm

Self-esteem make me super superb and supreme

But for a microphone still I fiend

This was a tape I wasn’t supposed to break

I was supposed to wait, but let’s motivate

I want to see who can keep followin and swallowin

Takin the making, bitin it and borrowin

Brothers tried and others died to get the formula

But I'ma let ya sweat - you still ain’t warm

You a step away from frozen, stiff as if ya posin

Dig into my brain as the rhyme gets chosen

So follow me and were ya thinkin’ you were first?

Let’s travel at magnificent speeds around the Universe

What could ya say as the Earth gets further and further away

Planets are small as balls of clay

Astray into the Milky Way - world’s outasight

Far as the eye can see - not even a satellite

Now stop and turn around and look

As ya stare in the darkness, ya knowledge is took!

So keep starin soon ya suddenly see a star

You better follow it cause it’s the R

This is a lesson if ya guessin and if ya borrowin

Hurry hurry step right up and keep followin

The Leader



2. INSEPCTAH DECK, TRIUMPH- WU-TANG CLAN



I bomb atomically, Socrates’ philosophies

And hypotheses can’t define how I be droppin these

Mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery

Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me

Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits

Tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics

I inspect view through the future see millenium

Killa Beez sold fifty gold sixty platinum

Shackling the masses with drastic rap tactics

Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths

Black Wu jackets Queen Beez ease the guns in

Rumble with patrolmen tear gas laced the function

Heads by the score take flight incite a war

Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more

Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly

Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi

Stomp grounds I pound footprints in solid rock

Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block



3. EMINEM, RENEGADE- JAY-Z



Since I’m in a position to talk to these kids and they listen

I ain’t no politician but I’ll kick it with 'em a minute

Cause see they call me a menace; and if the shoe fits I’ll wear it

But if it don’t, then y'all’ll swallow the truth grin and bear it

Now who’s these king of these rude ludicrous lucrative lyrics

Who could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics

Usin his music to steer it, sharin his views and his merits

But there’s a huge interference - they’re sayin you shouldn’t hear it

Maybe it’s hatred I spew, maybe it’s food for the spirit

Maybe it’s beautiful music I made for you to just cherish

But I’m debated disputed hated and viewed in America

As a motherfuckin drug addict - like you didn’t experiment?

Now now, that’s when you start to stare at who’s in the mirror

And see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrased

And I got nothin to do but make you look stupid as parents

You fuckin do-gooders - too bad you couldn’t do good at marriage!

(Ha ha!) And do you have any clue what I had to do to get here I don’t

Think you do so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo

Cause here we go - he’s {*Jigga joint Jigga-chk-Jigga*}

And I’m the sinister, Mr. Kiss-My-Ass it’s just a RENEGADE



4. AZ, LIFE’S A BITCH- NAS



Visualizin the realism of life and actuality

Fuck who’s the baddest a person’s status depends on salary

And my mentality is, money orientated

I’m destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it

cause yeah, we were beginners in the hood as five percenters

But somethin must of got in us cause all of us turned to sinners

Now some, restin in peace and some are sittin in San Quentin

Others such as myself are tryin to carry on tradition

Keepin the effervescence street ghetto essence inside us

Cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us

Even though, we know somehow we all gotta go

but as long as we leavin thievin we’ll be leavin with some kind of dough

so, and to that day we expire and turn to vapors

me and my capers-ll be somewhere stackin plenty papers

Keepin it real, packin steel, gettin high

Cause life’s a bitch and then you die



5. ANDRE 3000, RETURN OF THE GANGSTA- OUTKAST



It’s the return of the gangsta thanks ta’

Them niggas that’s on that blow

That run up in yo’ crib which contains

Your lady and an 8 month old

Child to raise plus you true blue 'bout this music but

They do not want to hear it because they’d

Rather be bouncin’ and shootin’ and killin’ and bouncin’

And shit get down

Return of the gangsta thanks ta’

Them niggas that thank [think] you soft

And say y'all be gospel rappin’

But they be steady clappin’ when you talk about

Bitches & switches & hoes & clothes & weed

Let’s talk about time travelin’ rhyme javelin

Somethin’ mind unravelin’ get down

Return of the gangsta thanks ta’

Them niggas who got them kids

Who got enough to buy an ounce

But not enough to bounce them kids to the zoo

Or to the park so they grow up in the dark never

Seein’ light so they end up being like yo’ sorry ass

Robbin’ niggas in broad ass daylight get down

Return of the gangsta thanks ta’

Them niggas that get the wrong impression of expression

Then the question is Big Boi what’s up with Andre?

Is he in a cult? Is he on drugs? Is he gay?

When y'all gon’ break up? When y'all gon’ wake up?

Nigga I’m feelin’ better than ever what’s wrong with you

You get down!



6. PHAROAHE MONCH, PRISONERS OF WAR- ORGANIZED KONFUSION



Wake up to the mathematics of an erratic rap

Rejuvenator of rhyme, that sort of come automatic

Poetical medical medicine for the cerebellum

I divert em and flirt em insert em then I repel em

A breakdown, poetical shakedown

Fifty-two pick-up a stick-up so get on the floor facedown

The ammo to keep the people steppin

Breakin open the vault because I’m like a verbal assault weapon

I’m mathematical, acrobatical

Attack the wack take rap to the maximum

You’re strung out you’re hung out when you heard the style

That I brung out of faint air must come out my mouth

Where I stick my tongue out in the at-mos-phere

Take a good look at what’s happening here

On the microphone, I’m rappin

Pickin-em-stickin-em up, breakin-em-shakin-em up, and bashin

The lyric dictator, the aviator of antonym

All beware to prepare for the guillotine

Rhymes go express, expert, extreme

Be up to par with wisdom and intellect

Detatching one’s head directly from one’s neck

Still I’ve been illing and drilling your brain

Like a villain I came in the darkness to spark the literature for sure

When I rhyme for the prisoners of war



7. NAS, NY STATE OF MIND, VERSE ONE



Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickin

Musician, inflictin composition

Of pain I’m like Scarface sniffin cocaine

Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I’m extreme, now

Bulletholes left in my peepholes

I’m suited up in street clothes

Hand me a nine and I’ll defeat foes

Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay

I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway

Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the ceelo champs

Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps

G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit

RemIniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped

Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin

Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston

Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and

I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin

Pick the Mac up, told brothers, “Back up,” the Mac spit

Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip

Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn’t look

Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck

Try to cock it, it wouldn’t shoot now I’m in danger

Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber

So now I’m jetting to the building lobby

And it was filled with children probably couldn’t see as high as I be

(So whatchu sayin?) It’s like the game ain’t the same

Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name

And claim some corners, crews without guns are goners

In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us

Fo’-fives and gauges, Macs in fact

Same niggaz’ll catch a back to back, snatchin yo’ cracks and black

There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked

So hold your stash until the coke price drop

I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock

And if it’s good she’ll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo

You gotta slide on a vacation

Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin

It drops deep as it does in my breath

I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death

Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined

I think of crime when I’m in a New York state of mind



8. PRODIGY, SHOOK ONES PART TWO- MOBB DEEP



I got you stuck off the realness, we be the infamous

You heard of us

Official Queensbridge murderers

The mobb comes equipped with warfare, beware

Of my crime family who got nuff shots to share

For all of those who wanna profile and pose

Rock you in your face, stab your brain wit’ your nosebone

You all alone in these streets, cousin

Every man for theyself in this land we be gunnin’

And keep them shook crews runnin’

Like they supposed to

They come around but they never come close to

I can see it inside your face

You’re in the wrong place

Cowards like you just get they’re whole body laced up

With bullet holes and such

Speak the wrong words man and you will get touched

You can put your whole army against my team and

I guarantee you it’ll be your very last time breathin’

Your simple words just don’t move me

You’re minor, we’re major

You all up in the game and don’t deserve to be a player

Don’t make me have to call your name out

Your crew is featherweight

My gunshots’ll make you levitate

I’m only nineteen but my mind is old

And when the things get for real my warm heart turns cold

Another nigga deceased, another story gets told

It ain’t nothin’ really

Hey, yo dun spark the phillie

So I can get my mind off these yellowback niggas

Why they still alive I don’t know, go figure

Meanwhile back in Queens the realness is foundation

If I die I couldn’t choose a better location

When the slugs penetrate you feel a burning sensation

Getting closer to God in a tight situation

Now, take these words home and think it through

Or the next rhyme I write might be about you



9. BLACK THOUGHT, ACT TOO: LOVE OF MY LIFE- THE ROOTS



The anticipation arose as time froze

I stared off the stage with my eyes closed and dove

into the deep cosmos

The impact pushed back, the first five rows

But before the raw live shows

I remember I'se a little snot-nosed

Rockin Gazelle, goggles and Izod clothes

Learnin the ropes of ghetto survival

Peepin out the situation I had to slide through

Had to watch my back my front plus my sides too

When it came to gettin mine I ain’t tryin, to argue

Sometimes I wouldn'ta made it if it wasn’t for you

Hip-Hop, you the love of my life and that’s true

When I was handlin the shit I had to do

It was all for you, from the door for you

Speak through you, gettin paper on tour for you

From the start, Thought was down by law for you

Used to hit up every corner store wall for you

We ripped shit, and kept it hardcore for you

I remember late nights, steady rockin the mic

Hip-Hop, you the love of my life

So tell the people like that y'all (that y'all)

And it sounds so nice

Hip-Hop, you the love of my life

We bout to take it to the top..



10. CHUCK D, BLACK STEEL IN THE HOUR OF CHAOS- PUBLIC ENEMY



I got a letter from the government

The other day

I opened and read it

It said they were suckers

They wanted me for their army or whatever

Picture me given’ a damn - I said never

Here is a land that never gave a damn

About a brother like me and myself

Because they never did

I wasn’t wit’ it, but just that very minute…

It occurred to me

The suckers had authority

Cold sweatin’ as I dwell in my cell

How long has it been?

They got me sittin’ in the state pen

I gotta get out - but that thought was thought before

I contemplated a plan on the cell floor

I’m not a fugitive on the run

But a brother like me begun - to be another one

Public enemy servin’ time - they drew the line y'all

To criticize me some crime - never the less

They could not understand that I’m a Black man

And I could never be a veteran

On the strength, the situation’s unreal

I got a raw deal, so I’m goin’ for the steel



11. CAPPADONNA, WINTER WARZ- WU-TANG CLAN



You heard of the rasp before but kept waitin

for the sun of song, I keep dancehalls strong

Beats never worthy of my cause, I prolong

Extravaganza time sits still

No propaganda, be wary of the skill

As I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrum

Dedicated to rap nigga beware of the fearsome

Lebanon Don, Malcolm X beat threat

CD massacre, murder to cassette

I blow the shop up, you ain’t seen nothin yet

One man ran, tryin to get away from it

Put your bifocal on, watch me a-cometh

into your chamber like Freddy enter dream

Discombumberate your technique and your scheme

Four course applause, like a black dat to dat

You’re stuck on stupid like I’m stuck on the map

Nowhere to go except next show bro

Entertainin motherfuckers can’t stop O

in battlin, you don’t want me to start tattlin

All upon the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattlin

Bitch, you ain’t got nothin on the rich

Every other day my whole dress code switch

So just in case you want to clock me like Sherry

All y'all crab bitches ain’t got to worry

Can’t get a nigga like Don dime a dozen

Even if I’m smoked out I can’t be scoped out

I’m too ill, I represent Park Hill

See my face on the twenty dollar bill

Cash it in, and get ten dollars back

The fat LP with Cappachino on the wax

Pass it in your think, put valve up to twelve

Put all the other LP’s back on the shelf

And smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-7

1-6-0-4-9-3-11

And you could get long dick hip-hop affection

I damage any MC who step in my direction

I’m Staten Island’s best son fuck what you heard

Niggaz still talkin that shit is absurd

My repertoire, is U.S.S.R.

P.L.O. style got thrown out the car

and ran over, by the Method Man jeep

Divine can’t define my style is so deep

like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy

like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine

Cut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design

I know you want to diss me, but I can read your mind

Cuz you weak in the knees, like SWV

Tryin to get a title like Wu Killa Bee

Kid change your habit, you know I’m friends with the Abbott

Me and RZA ridin name printed in the tablet

under vets, we paid our debts for mad years

Hibernate the sound, and now we out like beers

and blunt power, born physically power speakin

The truth in the song be the pro-black teachin



12. BIG L, EBONICS, VERSE ONE



Check it, my weed smoke is my la

A ki of coke is a pie

When I’m lifted, I’m high

With new clothes on, I’m fly

Cars is whips and sneakers is kicks

Money is chips, movies is flicks

Also, cribs is homes, jacks is pay phones

Cocaine is nose candy, cigarettes is bones

A radio is a box, a razor blade is a ox

Fat diamonds is rocks and jakes is cops

And if you got robbed, you got stuck

You got shot, you got bucked

And if you got double-crossed, you got fucked

Your bankroll is your poke, a choke hold is a yoke

A kite is a note, a con is a okey doke

And if you got punched that mean you got snuffed

To clean is to buff, a bull scare is a strong bluff

I know you like the way I’m freakin’ it

I talk with slang and i'ma never stop speakin’ it



13. MOS DEF, THIEVES IN THE NIGHT- BLACK STAR



Yo, I’m sure that everybody out listenin agree

That everything you see ain’t really how it be

A lot of jokers out runnin in place, chasin the style

Be a lot goin on beneath the empty smile

Most cats in my area be lovin the hysteria

Synthesized surface conceals the interior

America, land of opportunity, mirages and camoflauges

More than usually – speakin loudly, sayin nothin

You confusin me, you losin me

Your game is twisted, want me enlisted – in your usury

Foolishly, most men join the ranks cluelessly

Buffoonishly accept the deception, believe the perception

Reflection rarely seen across the surface of the lookin glass

Walkin the street, wonderin who they be lookin past

Lookin gassed with them imported designer shades on

Stars shine bright, but the light – rarely stays on

Same song, just remixed, different arrangement

Put you on a yacht but they won’t call it a slaveship

Strangeness, you don’t control this, you barely hold this

Screamin brand new, when they just sanitized the old shit

Suppose it’s, just another clever Jedi mind trick

That they been runnin across stars through all the time with

I find it’s distressin, there’s never no in-between

We either niggaz or Kings

We either bitches or Queens

The deadly ritual seems immersed, in the perverse

Full of short attention spans, short tempers, and short skirts

Long barrel automatics released in short bursts

The length of black life is treated with short worth

Get yours first, them other niggaz secondary

That type of illin that be fillin up the cemetery

This life is temporary but the soul is eternal

Separate the real from the lie, let me learn you

Not strong, only aggressive, cause the power ain’t directed

That’s why, we are subjected to the will of the oppressive

Not free, we only licensed

Not live, we just excitin

Cause the captors.. own the masters.. to what we writin

Not compassionate, only polite, we well trained

Our sincerity’s rehearsed in stage, it’s just a game

Not good, but well behaved cause the ca-me-ra survey

most of the things that we think, do, or say

We chasin after death just to call ourselves brave

But everyday, next man meet with the grave

I give a damn if any fam’ recall my legacy

I’m tryin to live life in the sight of God’s memory

Like that y'all



14. RA THE RUGGED MAN, UNCOMMON VALOR- JEDI MIND TRICKS



True story…

Call me Thorburn, John H. Staff Sergeant, Marksman

Skilling, killing, illing

I’m able and willing

Kill a village elephant, rape and pillage your village

Illegitimate killers, US Military guerillas

This ain’t a real war, Vietnam shit

World War II, that’s a war, this is just a military conflict

Soothing, drug-abusing, Vietnamese women screwing

Sex, scampling and booz, and all the shit is amusing

Bitches and guns, this is every man’s dream

I don’t want to go home, where I’m just a ordinary human being

Special OP, Huey chopper gun shit, run shit

Gook run when the mini-gun spit, won’t miss, kill shit

Spit four-thousand bullets a minute

Bit the Charlie, hit trigger, hit it

I’m in it to win it, get it

The lieutenant hinted the villain, I’ve ended up killing

The killing, I did it, cripple, did it, pictures I painted is vivid, live it

A wizard with weapons, a secret mission we about to begin it

Government funded, behind enemy lines bullets is spraying

It’s heating up, a hundred degrees

The enemy’s the North Vietnamese, bitch please

Ain’t no sweat, I’m told “be at ease”

Until I see the pilot got hit, and we about to hit some trees

Till the rotor broke, crash land, American man

Cambodia, right in the enemy hand

Take a swig of the whiskey to calm us

Them yellow men wearing black pajamas

They want to harm us

They all up on us

Bang, bang, bullet hit my chest, feel no pain

To my left, the captain caught a bullet right in his brain

Body parts flying, loss of limbs, explosions

Bad intentions, I see my best friend’s intestines

Pray to the one above, It’s raining and I’m covered in mud

I think I’m dying, I feel dizzy, I’m losing blood

I see my childhood, I’m back in the arms of my mother

I see my whole life, I see Christ, I see bright lights

I see Israelites, Muslims and Christians at peace, no fights

Blacks, Whites, Asians, people of all types

I must have died, then I woke up, suprised I’m alive

I’m in a hospital bed, they rescued me, I survived

I escaped the war, came back

But ain’t escape Agent Orange, two of my kids born handicapped

Spastic, quadriplegic, micro cephalic

Cerebral palsy, cortical blindness, name it they had it

My son died he ain’t live, but I still try to think positive

Cause in life, God take, God give



15. KRS-ONE, WHY IS THAT, VERSE ONE- BOOGIE DOWN PRODUCTIONS



The day begins, with a grin

And a prayer to excuse my sins

I can walk anywhere I choose

Cause everybody listens to the B.D.P. crew

We’re not here for glamour or fashion

But here’s the question I’m askin

Why is it young black kids taught {flashin?}

They’re only taught how to read, write, and act

It’s like teachin a dog to be a cat

You don’t teach white kids to be black

Why is that? Is it because we’re the minority?

Well black kids follow me

Genesis chapter eleven verse ten

Explains the geneology of Chem

Chem was a black man, in Africa

If you repeat this fact they can’t laugh at ya

Genesis fourteen verse thirteen

Abraham steps on the scene

Being a descendent of Chem which is a fact

Means, Abraham too was black

Abraham born in the city of a black man

Called Nimrod grandson of Kam

Kam had four sons, one was named Canaan

Here, let me do some explaining

Abraham was the father of Isaac

Isaac was the father of Jacob

Jacob had twelve sons, for real

And these, were the children of Isreal

According to Genesis chapter ten

Egyptians descended from {Hahm,Kam}

Six hundred years later, my brother, read up

Moses was born in Egypt

In this era black Egyptians weren’t right

They enslaved black Isrealites

Moses had to be of the black race

Because he spent fourty years in Pharoah’s place

He passed as the Pharoah’s grandson

So he had to look just like him

Yes my brothers and sisters take this here song

Yo, correct the wrong

The information we get today is just wack

But ask yourself, why is that?



16. JAY-Z, WHAT MORE CAN I SAY, VERSE THREE



Now you know ass is willie

When they got you in a mag

For like half a billi

And your ass ain’t lily

White

That mean that shit you write must be illy

Either that or your flow is silly

It’s both

I don’t mean to boast

But damn if i don’t brag

Them crackers gonna act like I ain’t on they ass

The Martha Stewart

That’s far from Jewish

Far from a Harvard student

Just had the balls to do it

And no I’m not through with it

In fact I’m just previewin it

This ain’t the show i’m just EQ'in it

One, Two and I won’t stop abusin it

To groupie girls stop false accusin it

Back to the music

The Maybach roof is translucent

Niggas got a problem Houston

What up B

They can’t shut up me

Shut down I

Not even P.E.

I'ma ride

God forgive me for my brash delivery

But I remember vividly

What these streets did to me

So picture me

Lettin these clowns nit pick at me

Paint me like a pickaninny

I will literally

Kiss Tee-Tee in the forehead

Tell her please forgive me

Then squeeze until your forehead

I’m not the one to score points off

In fact

I got a joint to knock your points off

Young

Hova the God nigga blast for me

I’m at the Trump International

Ask for me

I ain’t never scared

I’m everywhere

You ain’t never there

Nigga why would I ever care

Pound for pound I’m the best to ever come around here

Excluding nobody

Look what I embody

The soul of a hustler I really ran the street

That CEO’s mine

That marketing plan was me

And no I ain’t get shot up a whole bunch of times

Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines

And I ain’t animated, like say a, Busta Rhymes

But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines

Add that to the fact I went plat a bunch of times

Times that by my influence

On pop culture

I supposed to be number one on everybody’s list

We’ll see what happens when i no longer exist

Fuck this



17. ICE CUBE, BIRD IN A HAND, VERSE ONE



Fresh out of school cause I was a high school grad

Gots to get a job 'cause I was a high school dad

Wish I got paid like I was rappin’ to the nation

But that’s not likely, so here’s my application

Pass it to the man at AT&T

'cause when I was in school I got the A.E.E.

But there’s no S.E. for this youngsta

I didn’t have no money so now I gotta punch the

Clock at a slave, and be happy man

But whitey says there’s no room for the african

Always knew that I would clock G’s

But welcome to Mcdonalds can I take your order please

Gotta sell you food that might give you cancer

'cause my son doesn’t take no for an answer

Now I pay taxes that you never give me back

What about diapers, bottles, and similac

Do I gotta go sell me a whole lotta crack

For decent shelter and clothes on my back?

Or should I just wait for help from Bush

Or Jesse Jackson, and Operation Push

If you ask me the whole thing needs a douche

A Massengil what the hell crack’ll sell in the neighborhood

To the corner house bitches,

Miss Parker, Little Joe and Todd Bridges

Or anybody that he know

So I got me a bird, better known as a kilo

Now everybody know I went from poor to a nigga that got dough

So now you put the feds against me

Cause I couldn’t follow the plan now the president see

I’ll never givin’ love again

But blacks are too fuckin broke to be republican

Now I remember I used to be cool

Till I stopped fillin’ out my W-2

Now senators are gettin’ high

And your plan against the ghetto backfired

So now you gotta pep talk

But sorry, this is our only room to walk

Cause we don’t want a drug push

But a bird in the hand is worth more than a Bush



18. NAS, REWIND



The bullet goes back in the gun

The bullet hole’s closin this chest of a nigga

Now he back to square one

Screamin, “Shoot don’t please”

I put my fifth back on my hip

It’s like a VCR rewindin a hit

He put his hands back on his bitch

My caravan doors open up

I jumped back in the van and closed it shut

Goin reverse, slowly prepared

My nigga Jungle utters out somethin crazy like, “Go he there”

Sittin in back of this chair, we hittin the roach

The smoke goes back in the blunt, the blunt gets bigger in growth

Jungle unrolls it, put his weed back in the jar

The blunt turns back into a cigar

We listen to Stevie, it sounded like heavy metal fans

Spinnin records backwards of AC/DC

I give my niggas dap, jump out the van back first

Back upstairs, took off the black shirt

I’m in the crib with the phone to my ear

Listen up so y'all can figure out the poem real clear

The voice on the phone was like, “Outside right we”

So with my mouth wide, holdin my heat

Bullets I had plenty to squeeze, plenty for ya

'Cause Jungle said, “Block your on enemies the”

Hung up the phone, then the phone rings (phone ringing)

I’m laid in the bed thinkin 'bout this pretty young thing

Who left, she came back, her clothes just fell to the rug

She fell to my bed and gave me a hug

I told her, “No hell”

She talkin 'bout, “Me kiss”

Bobbed her head then spit the nut back in my dick

Started suckin with no hands, a whole lotta spit

Then got up and put her bra back on her tits

Got fully dressed and told me, “Stressed really I’m”

Picked up her Gucci bag and left her nigga behind

Walkin through the door, she rang the bell twice

I vomited Vodka back in my glass with juice and ice

The clock went back from three, to two, to one

And that’s about the time the story begun

That’s when I first heard the voicemail on the cell

It said, “Son we found that nigga we gotta kill”

Message Beep

Ay yo son, ay yo son, you hear me, you hear me?

Listen man, this dude right on the block, right now, man

I found him, right now, I see him right now!

Let’s kill him)

Message Beep

“Yo, this Nas, leaving, Peace”



19. JEAN GRAE, #8- JEANIUS



Possibly I could, drop in some knowledge I should

But I ain’t finish college and I’m not a Kanye, got it, good

Intelligent rhetoric, brain packed like a tenement

Aim back at the tenants my face crack in a venomous rage

I really wanna blaze all you, burn you like 8 whores do

Pearl you like Florida store furniture

Permanent marker Jean is tagging blacking up your partners penis

Pardon the phoenix while I mark you plus I bark the meanest

Hardly elitist, I know the struggle

I mostly bubble underground like a soda below some broken rubble

At ground zero I get down nigga, like them brown people

Saturday night like Geechi Suede and Sonny Chiba lift ya

I’ll levitate the scriptures just so I can see em better

Each and every letter was conceived by Jean I’m the Coretta

Scott King of my day I mean, stand by my mate, my king

Planning for Jamaica honeymooning, vacationing

CD break it in, skipping on this track like I been

scraping it, scraping it, scraping it, bring it back

Sicker than rap, I’ll stick you with a picket axe

Pick up your soul and then control it what’s bigger than that?

You don’t like the way I flow? “She needs more emotion” no

I’ll give you emotion, it’s you, holding your broken nose

I’ll leave you comatose with a pound of Columbian snow

At your side so when the cops arrive, they’ll just say you overdosed

This ain’t a battle, I would make your cranium rattle

Skull in pain as if a hundred veins had popped, a dangerous madam

The Heidi Fleiss of words, like a verse, find a purse

I could make you love me if you fuck with me violence occurs

New York pimp game the worst chic since the birth of words

That I first met on a Thursday I think I’m cursed

Don’t blink niggas, cuz I will figure

A way to kill you in a second with my ring finger

Think quicker, my vision multiplied like liquor drinkers

I’ll kick your sister til she’s crippled make you step with her

Cuz I could mark you too, show you what a dart could do

When your aorta’s a target, nigga, pardon you



20. BIG PUN, DREAM SHATTERER, VERSE ONE



Ay-yo I shatter dreams like Jordan, assault and batter your team

Your squadron’ll be barred from rap like Adam & Eve from the garden

I’m carvin’ my initials on your forehead

So every night before bed you see the “BP” shine off the board head

Reverse that, I curse at the first wack nigga with the worst rap

'cause he ain’t worth jack

Hit 'em with a thousand pounds of pressure per slap

Make his whole body jerk back, watch the earth crack

Hand him his purse back

I’m the first Latin rapper to baffle your skull

Master the flow, niggaz be swearin’ I’m blacker than coal

Like Nat King, I be rapping and tongue’s packing

The ones, magnums, cannons and gatling guns

It’s Big Pun! The one and only son of Tony…Montana

You ain’t promised manana in the rotten manzana

C'mon-pana we need more rhymers

Feel the marijuana snake bite anaconda

I’m in Havana with Juana, try to match my persona

Sometimes rhymin’ I blow my own mind like Nirvana

Comma, and go the whole nine like Madonna

Go try to find another rhymer with my kinda grammar



21. BUSTA RHYMES, SCENARIO- A TRIBE CALLED QUEST



Watch, as I combine all the juice from the mind

Heel up, wheel up, bring it back, come rewind

Powerful impact BOOM! from the cannon

Not braggin, try to read my mind just imagine

Vo-cab-u-lary’s necessary

When diggin into my library

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!

Eating ITAL stew like the one Peter Tosh

UH uh UH, all over the track, man

UH, pardon me, UH, as I come back

As I did it yo I had to beg your pardon

When I travel to the Sun I roll with the squadron

RRRRRROAW RRRRRRROAW like a dungeon dragon

Change your little drawers cause your pants are saggin

Try to step to this, I will twist you in a turban

And have u smelling rank, like some old stale urine

Chickity-choco, the chocolate chicken

The rear cock diesel buttcheeks they were kicking

Yo, bustin out before the Busta bust a nut the rhyme

the rhythm is in sync (UHH!) the rhymes are on time (TIME!)

Rippin up the sound just like a radio

Observe the rhyme and check out the scenario!!



22. JAY-Z, REGRETS, VERSE TWO



I found myself reminiscin, remember this one

When he was here he was crazy nice with his son

I miss him, long as I’m livin he’s livin through memories

He’s there to kill all my suicidal tendencies

In heaven lookin over me, or in hell, keepin it cozy

I’m comin life on these streets ain’t what it’s supposed to be

Remember Newton, mutual friend well me and him feudin

On your life I tried to talk to him

But you know niggaz, think they guns can stop four niggaz

Frontin like they’re, Big Willie but really owe niggaz

Hoe niggaz, this year I’m show niggaz think I’m slippin

I’m bought to send you a roommate, no bullshittin

For my hustle’s goin too well to hit him

You was right niggaz want you to be miserable wit em

Anyway, I ain’t tryin to hear it, I think I’m touched

This whole verse I been talkin to your spirit, a little too much



23. NOTORIOUS B.I.G., NOTORIOUS THUGS



Armed and dangerous, ain’t too many can bang with us

Straight up weed no angel dust, label us notorious

Thug ass niggaz that love to bust, it’s strange to us

Y'all niggaz be scramblin, gamblin

Up in restaurants with mandolins, and violins

We just sittin here tryin to win, tryin not to sin

High off weed and lots of gin

So much smoke need oxygen, steadily countin them Benjamins

Nigga you should too, if you knew

What this game’ll do to you

Been in this shit since ninety-two

Look at all the bullshit I been through

So-called beef with you know who

Fuck a few female stars or two

Then I blew like, nigga who, like Mike, shit

Not to be fucked with

Motherfucker better duck quick, cause

Me and my dogs love to buck shit

Fuck the luck shit, strictly aim

No aspirations to quit the game

Spit yo’ game, talk yo’ shit

Grab yo’ gat, call yo’ click

Squeeze yo’ clip, hit the right one

Pass that weed, I got to light one

All them niggaz I got ta fight one

All them hoes I got ta like one

Our situation is a tight one

Whatcha gonna do, fight or run?

Seems to me that you’ll take B

Bone and Big, nigga die slowly

I'ma tell you like a nigga told me

Cash Rule Everything Around Me

Shit, lyrically, niggaz can’t see me

Fuck it, buy the coke

Cook the coke, cut it

Know the bitch 'fore you caught yourself lovin’ it

Nigga with a Benz fuckin it

Doesn’t it seem odd to you

Big come through with mobs and crews

Goodfellas down to the Mo Thugs dudes

Who’s the killa, me or you?



24. COMMON, COMMUNISM



Chick-a chick-a i’m

Chick-a chick-a on

Chick-a chick-a my

My, own shit

Like an entrepreneur, that stepped in manure

Man I’m newer than a jack I went up the hill with Jill

And jacked Jill’s big booty

I did the booty up, I told the bitch she better have my money

Or step to the AMG

You know Com Sense, OK him be

That nigga that be making all the bid-by-by-bye sounds

But since then, Common calm down!

I’m on some calm shit watch com get complicated

Simple motherfuckers say the way that com communicated

Was too complex, I got a complex not to complain

On my brain no complain and so will my community

And I prefer compliments

So I complement at an angle, of ninety degrees

It’s the nineties, and easy got known for grease

I got a sense of direction and a compass

Come past mc’s with compassion, though I heard the screams of em

But I ain’t Shai, so why shall I comfort

Com should’ve been at the fort with jeff I’m so ill

But I chilled in my compartment with no company and no meals

Now com can get the pan(t)y, but I want my own company

And Com is on a mission not to work for commission

It’s a common market and it’s so much competition

But to me, competition is none

To my comp I’m a ton I get amped like Watts in a riot

My compact disc is a commodity, so buy it

Instead of competing with pete

Com compromised, com made a promise

Not to commercialize, but compound the soul

With other elements, compelling sense into communism



25. GHOSTFACE KILLAH, IMPOSSIBLE- WU-TANG CLAN



Call an ambulance, Jamie been shot, word to Kimmy

Don’t go Son, nigga you my motherfuckin heart

Stay still Son, don’t move, just think about Keba

She’ll be three in January, your young God needs you

The ambulance is taking too long

Everybody get the fuck back, excuse me bitch, gimme your jack

One, seven one eight, nine one one, low battery, damn

Blood comin out his mouth, he bleedin badly

Nahhh Jamie, don’t start that shit

Keep your head up, if you escape hell we gettin fucked up

When we was eight, we went to Bat Day to see the Yanks

In Sixty-Nine, his father and mines, they robbed banks

He pointed to the charm on his neck

With his last bit of energy left, told me rock it with respect

I opened it, seen the God holdin his kids

Photogenic, tears just burst out my wig

Plus he dropped one, oh shit, here come his Old Earth

With no shoes on, screamin holdin her breasts with a gown on

She fell and then lightly touched his jaw, kissed him

Rubbed his hair, turned around the ambulance was there

Plus the blue coats, Officer Lough, took it as a joke

Weeks ago he strip-searched the God and gave him back his coke

Bitches yellin, Beenie Man swung on Helen

In the back of a cop car, dirty tarts are tellin

But suddenly a chill came through it was weird

Felt like my man, was cast out my heaven now we share

Laid on the stretcher, blood on his Wally’s like ketchup

Deep like the full assassination with a sketch of it

It can’t be, from Yoohoo to Lee’s

Second grade humped the teachers, about to leave

Finally this closed chapter, comes to an end

He was announced, pronounced dead, y'all, at twelve ten