On Sunday it will have been 15 years since Lauryn Hill dropped her solo debut album The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill. While the project displayed Hill's incredible musical ambition and an advanced level of lyrical dexterity on a number of tracks, it was not the first time we heard L-Boogie spit bars with finesse. The female third of The Fugees was gripping mics since her teen years, and evolved into one of hip-hop’s top lyricists over a long period of time. To celebrate the 15 of Lauryn Hill’s brainchild, XXL has unearthed some of Hill’s best bars to date. Some songs were hit singles; others were obscure freestyles. Regardless of where they were placed, it’s important to note that Hill’s got skills.

Every man wanna act like he's exempt/Need to get down on his knees and repent/Can't slick talk on the day of judgment/Your movement's similar to a serpent/Tried to play straight, have your whole style bent/ Consequence is no coincidence/Hypocrites always wanna play innocent - “Lost Ones”

Nobody knew who these bars in “Lost Ones” were directed toward, but learning now that they’re about Wyclef makes them hit so much harder. “I was on the humble, you on every station,” L-Boogie barks, running the gamut of nouns and verbs about losing yourself to fame and money. Consequence is no coincidence.

Thug, drug dealer wife; consequence cut like a knife/Then we learned that only Jah and God can protect/You know the story, housing projects is purgatory/So, teach the youths they got more rights than Miranda/Tell 'em this whole shit is propaganda. - The Fugees “Don’t Cry Dry Your Eyes”

Following the release of the Fugees’ record-breaking album, The Score, the NJ trio dropped an EP titled Bootleg Versions. This gem was on it. While the song was supposed to be a weirdly remixed version of their Bob Marley cover “No Woman No Cry” with Marley’s family, Lauryn used her time on the mic to spit social consciousness. This verse was a product of that, flipping metaphors about Miranda Rights and a whole lot of other things. Dope.

Au contraire mon frere, don't you even go there/Me without a mic is like a beat without a snare/I dare to tear into your ego, we go, way back like some ganja and pelequo/Or ColecoVision/My rhymes make incisions in your anatomy, and I'll back this with Deuteronomy/Or Leviticus, God made this word you can't get with this. - The Fugees “How Many Mics”

When The Fugees made their triumphant comeback following their debut album “Blunted On Reality,” this was the first set of bars we heard from Lauryn at the start of their follow-up album “The Score.” Not a band transition.

Yeah I'm the L, won't you pull it/Straight to the head, with the speed of a bullet/Cuttin' ni**as off at the meeky-freaky gullet/Lyrical sedative, keep niggas meditative/Head rushers I give to creative kids and fiends/Dreams of euphoria, Aurora, to another galaxy/Phallic, see, be this microphone, but get lifted/Lyrically I'm gifted - The Fugees “The Score”

Lauryn’s nickname was “L.” A slang term for a blunt is an “L.” So here, Lauryn compares herself to the effects of weed by being the L, or the vessel. See what she did there? She found quite a few similarities to herself and a drug if we’re really being honest. Lauryn Hill = lyrical contraband.

The next crew, will be comprised of kings and queens wearing crowns and holdin’ scepters/Facing Mecca, making records, raiding biblio-techas/I sip nectars with the gods, in the street apparel/Keep the path straight and narrow while we bombin' on Pharaoh. - Bounty Killer “Hip-Hopera”

Lauryn Hill has always had a knack for weaving historical references and religious undertones into seamless loaded bars. Here she’s extending a metaphor about being anti-establishment to align herself with Ancient Egyptians who are overthrowing their government (i.e. Pharaoh). Despite being on something as overly theatrical as Bounty Killer’s “Hip-Hopera” (Sorry), L-Boogie still managed to shine and have you rewinding to track to catch what she said.

When my peoples would protest, I told them mind their business/Cause my shit was complex. More than just the sex/ I was blessed, but couldn't feel it like when I was caressed/I'd spend nights clutching my breasts overwhelmed by God's test/I was God's best contemplating death with a Gillette/But no man is ever worth the paradise manifest. - The Fugees “Manifest (Outro)”

These are some revealing bars about how Lauryn considered suicide over a man that didn’t love her. Then she brings it back to religion, talking about how suicide will bring her to Hell (not Heaven), and that’s the part that wasn’t worth it. Not the part about taking her own life. Deep.

I've been here before this ain't a battle, this is war/Word to Boonie, I make salat like a Sunni/Get diplomatic immunity in every ghetto community/Had opportunity, went from Hoodshock to Hood-chic, but it ain't what you cop, it's about what you keep/And even if there are leaks, you can't capsize this ship/‘Cause I baptize my lips every time I take sips. - “Final Hour”

In 1996, The Fugees performed at an ill-fated event called Hoodshock in Harlem, where some jerk randomly fired a shot into the air and caused mass hysteria. A stampede ensued and people got hurt. Thankfully, the Fugees didn’t. So, Hoodshock to Hood-chic, get it?

Yeah these dimensions and extensions will secure my future pension/When I mention corporate lynchins like the cowboys did to injuns/The intention of the Devil is to cause me hypertension/So stay gold like Stevie Wonder don't blunder like OJ Simpson - Young Zee “Stay Gold”

There was a time when the Outsidaz and The Fugees were super tight, both being from New Jersey and taking part in the local hip-hop / battle scene there. When Lauryn decided to do Outz co-leader Young Zee and jump on his track, he probably had no idea she’d be getting so cerebral. But that’s what happens when you invite Lauryn Hill on your track. She owns it.

Yeah in saloons we drink Boone's and battle goons till high noon/Bust rap tunes onflat spoons, take no shorts like poom pooms/See hoochies pop coochies, for Gucci's and Lucci/Find me in my Mitsubishi, eatin' sushi, bumpin' Fugees. - The Fugees “Fu-Gee-La”

The epitome of a down ass hip-hop chick. While all the other girls are shaking their “poom poom” shorts for cash and clothes, Lauryn is writing rhymes and listening to her team’s music. Now that’s ride or die.

The pretty face men claiming that they did a bid men/Need to take care of they three or four kids/And they face a court case when the child support late/Money taking and heart breaking, now you wonder why women hate men/The sneaky, silent men. The punk, domestic violence men/Quick to shoot the semen, stop acting like boys and be men. - “Doo Wop (That Thing)”

It’s hard to call out all of the lowdown dirty men in a song without coming across as whiny. Lauryn just killed the egos of any man that’s been fronting since the beginning of time. You know who you are.

We used to bite the bullets with the pigskin casings. Now we perfect slang like a gang of street masons. Scribe checks make the next true pyramid architects. Replace the last name with the X. - Fugees Featuring A Tribe Called Quest & Busta Rhymes “Rumble In The Jungle”

This track appeared on the documentary “When We Were Kings,” which was about Muhammad Ali’s championship fight with George Foreman in Zaire known as “Rumble In The Jungle.” Lauryn travels from police brutality to the Nation Of Islam in one fell swoop. It’s another one of those times where you have to pause and reflect to get what she’s really saying.

My circle it can't be broken/Open, cut-throatin', provokin'/Record promotin, tokin’ chokin' on they words like smoke, and ‘cause we soft spoken/Doesn't mean that we've forgotten/Your bootie smells rotten and one day you will be gotten. - The Fugees “Family Business”

Spoken like a true mafia matriarch, Lauryn Hill epitomizes crew love on her verse off The Fugees’ “Family Business.” The bars that followed include her soliciting sex in exchange for new material from wack competitors. Meaning, she’d never have to cash in on that deal ever.

My intellect will protect what you threaten/Captain to Lieutenant; even take cadets in/I take them all rich and to the powerful/Don't fear no other force I be defining your hardcore/The folklore you spread down over tracks/Got you gassed on some shit may I suggest Ex-Lax?/Relax/Your whole perception seems to be distorted/In my dimensions fake refugees get deported - Poor Righteous Teachers Featuring The Fugees “Allies”

New Jersey was definitely in the building the day PRT and the Fugees got together to record “Allies.” By the time it gets to Lauryn Hill’s verse she shouts “OKAY!!!” Like it’s about time it’s her turn, to craft a witty rhyme about being too smart for everyone else and combating the phonies by deporting them from Rap. Imagine if all phony rappers got deported?

If I treat you kindly, does it mean that I'm weak?/You hear me speak and think I won't take it to the streets?/I know enough cats that don't turn the other cheek/ But I try to keep it civilized like Menelik/And other African czars, observing stars with war scars, get yours in this capitalistic system/So many caught or got bought you can't list them - “Forgive Them Father”

Lauryn paints a picture on the track “Forgive Them Father” about how wrongdoers don’t know realize how destructive behavior. However, by the time her rhymes start, it turns into a different ballgame, where it’s like “Don’t f*ck with me, guys." She might be sweet, but she can be ruthless. End of story.

As I span the cosmos, mahogany travel at the speed of sound/Swan the mainstream, but still esteemed underground/My parameters, and rapper pentameters/Travel twice Earth's diameter, intimidating amateurs - DJ Skribble “Keep It Tight”

DJ Skribble (formerly a DJ for NYC’s Hot 97 as well the DJ for all-white rap group “Young Black Teenagers”) released a mix album called “Traffic Jams.” Lauryn spit a hot extraterrestrial freestyle called “Keep It Tight,” where Lauryn once again sonned the competition. “And just when you thought it was safe to relax, L-Boogie spits with perfect syntax.” Damn.

I must confess, my destiny's manifest/In some Gore-Tex and sweats I make treks like I'm homeless/Rap orgies with Porgy and Bess/Capture your bounty like Elliot Ness, yes/Bless you if you represent the Fu, but I'll hex you with some witch's brew if you doo-doo VooDoo/I can do what you do, easy/Believe me, frontin' n**gas give me heebee geebees/So while you're imitating Al Capone/I'll be Nina Simone, and defecating on your microphone - The Fugees “Ready Or Not”

Who else can use “defecating” in a rhyme and make it sound so effortless? Lauryn makes it clear she’s sh*tting on other rappers’ mics. Meanwhile a few lines prior she’s having a rap orgy. It be’s that way sometimes.

Fantastic mythologies reverse psychologies/False ideologies in Rap alter facts like a European scholar be/Rhymes unprecedented if I said it then I meant it/Take my style? Maybe you can rent it, but it still won’t be yours/Kinda like the clothes in videos you return to the stores. - The Fugees “Killing Me Softly” (Sound Barrier Remix)

There are conflicting stories about the origin of this verse. If you listen to the intro to “Killing Me Softly,” you’ll here the opening lines of this song. Rumor has it the “Sound Barrier Remix” is actually the real version of the song The Fugees wanted to create. However, when they hit up Roberta Flack and her people for the clearance, she said “Cover it the right way or don’t.” Who knows if that’s the real story, but without this “remix,” we would’ve never heard Lauryn spit these mythological bars.

It gets controversial when L-Boogie rocks. I confuse crews with views that’s Unorthodox. Madam Potential, I’m deadly with a pencil. Even when I’m pregnant rock without the instrumental. Far from accidental, I was born for this mission. Freak up a style, like a baby change position. Scare competition like a bad superstition. Get you wide open like the average obstetrician. - “Sweetest Thing” (Live Freestyle)

There’s an awkwardness in now knowing that Lauryn Hill and Wyclef Jean had an affair, and here Lauryn is showing up to his concert pregnant and ready to own the whole performance. Around this time it was just announced that she was pregnant, so she freestyled about it and then some. Check out the number of prego metaphors even within those few bars.

If I could change the times, I’d make rhymes raise the babies/Give all the pigs rabies, send biting ni**as to Hades/Clothe young ladies.Chase the rainbow, find the pot.Free the third time offender once he learns to make Salat/Lose the fame, take the money/Play boys, just like the bunny/Find a man with a plan, slap a chicken if she act funny/Break the bank, on tank/Stop ni**as from acting stank/Take over, give out free Rovers/Teach a man to find Jehovah - The Fugees “Ready Or Not” (Clark Kent Remix)

If Lauryn Hill did more than sing the hook on Nas’ “If I Ruled The World,” then this would have more than likely been her verse had she rhymed. Breaking down her wish list for a perfect world, L-Boogie would leave the fame at the door (but keep the wealth), give out free cars and other random acts of kindness (like slapping chickens). It’s a combination of personal and societal dreams all wrapped into one verse.

I know it takes an effort to be clean, especially when you only follow green. But to be redeemed, when you lack the self-esteem, you got the right team, ain’t nothin’ wrong with makin’ cream. But sometimes it seems like the whole scheme is dreams. The American regime got you rippin’ at the seams. Fiends move like machines, searchin’ chemical dreams, so Refugees move in teams like we Idi Amin. - Kulcha Don “Bellevue (Da Bomb)”

It’s often hard for rappers to spit prolific bars about positivity without coming across as corny or preachy. Lauryn had this gift from early on, even inserting religion—though she’d typically jumble all different faiths together and somehow have it make sense. Here she’s expressing crew love in the face of fame. A strong team is necessary after all, right?

Conflicts with nightsticks, illegal sales districts. Hand-picked lunatics, keep politrick-cians rich. Heretics push narcotics amidst its risks and frisks. Cool cliques throw bricks, but seldom hit targets. Private Dick sell hits, like porno-flicks do chicks. The 666 cut W.I.C. like Newt Gingrich sucks dick. - The Fugees “The Beast”

Once L-Boogie became comfortable in her own skin, her rhymes became considerably bolder. Here she’s targeting politicians (or poli-trick-cians), police brutality, and even drug dealers. Wonder what Newt Gingrich thinks of these bars? Who are we kidding, he hasn’t heard them.

Flipping in the ghetto on a dirty mattress/You can't match this rapper slash actress/More powerful than two Cleopatras/Bomb graffiti on the tomb of Nefertiti. MCs ain't ready to take it to the Serengeti/My rhymes is heavy like the mind of sister Betty - “Everything Is Everything”

There are enough historical references in these bars to have you reaching for an Encyclopedia Britannica like you’re about to write a book report in the ’90s. Note the double entendre at the end about developing a negative. See, Jay Z isn’t the only one.

Not concerned with the Platinum status. Cause every joint I threw, I would do for gratis. I'm on the train with my Pips like I'm lil Gladys. Or in the Range throwin’ chips to the kids in Addis (Ethiopia). Ababa, two kids and a baby father. Hot to lava, we Don Dadda, Don Dadda. - “Ex-Factor (A Simple Mix)”

This was after “The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill” became the hit that it was. Lauryn knew even then she didn’t care about the fame. But more importantly, remember the days when L only had two kids? Yeah neither do we.

So while you fuming, I'm consuming mango juice under Polaris. You're just embarrassed, ‘cause it's your last Tango in Paris. And even after all my logic and my theory, I add a muthaf**ker so you ig’nant n**gas hear me. - The Fugees “Zealots”

There was a time during Lauryn Hill’s pregnancy when she wouldn’t curse (it’s the reason why “The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill” has no curses). So remembering this bar from “The Score” and how she felt like she had to curse (or dumb down her lyrics) to catch certain ears. By the time she went solo, she didn’t feel that way anymore, clearly.

I cross sands in distant lands, made plans with the sheiks/Why you beef with freaks as my album sales peak?/All I wanted was to sell like five hundred, and be a Ghetto Superstar since my first album “Blunted”/I used to work at Foot Locker, they fired me and fronted/Or I quitted, now I spit it, however do you want it/Now you get it,writing rhymes in the Range, with the frames. Lightly tinted, then send it to your block to have my full name cemented - “Superstar”

Spoken like a true superstar. Lauryn started from the bottom—word to Drake—slingin’ sneakers, and now she’s in a Range Rover writing her next hit. Talk about aspirations.