l_4efd89b24f964a9391adf05ec99a75d8

As you call em, they call you when they need somethin
Trees for the blunt & 2 g’s for the frontin
I found a way to get piece of mind for years
And left the hell alone, turn a deaf ear to the cellular phone
Send me a letter, or better, we could see each other in real life
Just so you could feel me like a steel knife
At least so you could see the white of they eyes
Bright wit surprise, once they finish spittin lies
Associates, is your boys, your girls, bitches, niggaz, homies?
close, but really don’t know me
Mom, dad, comrade, peeps, brothers, sisters, duns, dunnies
Some come around when they need some money
Others make us laugh like the Sunday funnies
Fam be around whether you paid or bummy
You could either ignore this advice, or take it from me
Be too nice and people take you for a dummy
So nowadays he ain’t so friendly
Actually they wouldn’t even made a worthy enemy
Read the signs: no feeding the baboon
Seein as how they got ya back bleeding from the stab wounds
Ya’ll know the dance, they smile in ya face, ya’ll know the glance
Try ta put ‘em on, they blow the chance
Never let your so-called mans know ya plans
[Whodini:] (How many of us have them?)… a show of hands

Exactly.

9198727

It’s good to have some dark & crude lyrics back in hip hop again. Ying and Yang people!

In the bed with two brain dead lesbians vegetables
I bet you they become heterosexual
Nothing will stop me from molesting you
Titty fucking you till your breast nipple flesh tickles my testicles is what they said to the two conjoined twins
How’s it going girlfriends? You need a boyfriend?
You need some ointment? Just set up an appointment.
Who’s gonna see the doctor first, we’ll do a coin flip.
I just got my one year sobriety coin chip
When the bad get going how bad does the going get?
Baby you shouldn’t have any trouble rubbing groins with each other especially when you’re joined at the hip.
I’m going to get the needle and thread from the sewing kit
And attempt to separate em and stitch em back at the loins shit…
Lured the little boy with the chocolate chips ahoy chip
Cookie, lookie even took me a polaroid, bitch.

Exactly.

labcabin

I must admit on some occasions I went out like a punk and a chump
Or a sucker or something to that effect
Respect I used to never get
Cause all I got was upset when niggas use to be like “What’s up fool?!?”
And tried to seat a nigga like the Lip for no reason at all
I can recall crip niggas throwin’ c’s in my face
Down the hall I’m kicking it in the back of the school eating chicken at three
Wondering why is everybody always picking on me?
I tried to talk and tell them chill I did nothing to deserve this
But when it didn’t work I wasn’t scared just real nervous and unprepared
To deal with scrapping no doubt.
My pappy never told me how to knock a nigga out
But now in 95 I must survive as a man on my own
Fuck around with Fatlip yes ya get blown
I’m not trying to show no macho is shown
But when it’s on, if it’s on, then it’s on!

Exactly.

jay-electronica

Jay Electronica has made it known that he is a force to be reckoned with, ask Diddy, he knows. When this song first dropped, I slept on it, mainly because at the time I was still sleeping on Jay Electronica. Boy was I missing the boat. Fast forward to 2009, I’m somewhat of a fan, and this verse is incredible.

Verse:
Question, how does one go from chosen to posing/
Trapped in a box for years like Han Solo frozen/
Trapped in a wack idea designed by De Beers to keep your mental eyelids closing and your eyeballs bulging/
Fear, it can kill a man, turn a real man to a realer man/
Or package you, as a bathing ape wearing gorilla stan/
This message is brought to you in part from a Michael Jackson Thriller fan/
I had the glove plus the matching jack with zippers haan/
Its cool to imitate, just grow into ya own/
Don’t let the green grass across the picket fence turn you into Mr. Smith without a purpose or a home/
Underneath he is a Jedi, on the surface he’s a clone/
Smiling for his peers but at night time he cried/
‘Til he dried up all his tear ducts/
And he cool with that, as long as he got a haircut/
And his gear up, without change we over/
From individuals to posers/

Exactly

drake

My name is Drizzy and I ain’t perfect.
But I work hard so I deserve it
And I belong right where you see me
Ain’t on the fence about it, I ain’t Mr. Feeny
Naw
I got a decent set of manners
And a job that fills up any empty schedule or planner
And I fall in love with girls caught up in superficial glam
Who dress like Sarah Jessica and live like Princess Diana.
So often they have addictions and I’m the one that’ll feed it
But truly you’re bad enough that ya’ll dont even really need it
You could show up at the party on dirty public transit
And I guarantee the camera man will still be snappin candids
Of you and your posse partying, drinkin what you get handed
With your virgin island tans all lookin like you just landed
I don’t really understand it, I’m not sure I’m comprehending
But these girls are having fun with whoever money they spending screaming…

Exactly.

notorious-big_poster1grey

R.I.P Big.

It was all a dream
I used to read Word Up magazine
Salt’n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin’ pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock ’til my tape popped
Smokin’ weed and bamboo, sippin’ on private stock
Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack
With the hat to match
Remember Rappin’ Duke, duh-ha, duh-ha
You never thought that hip hop would take it this far
Now I’m in the limelight ’cause I rhyme tight
Time to get paid, blow up like the World Trade
Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri
Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starsky
I’m blowin’ up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number same hood
It’s all good

Exactly.

sean

I am a supa dupa trooper
Used to the bottom, scuba.
So I’m on the grind. Skateboard or scooter?
Until I am the king of my castle, koopa.
Yo, I took a shot in the dark in an industry of sharks that’s surrounded by water, Cuba.
I can make an Einsteins mind feel stupor.
And I can make an insecure bitch feel super.
Realest nigga ever, Kunta Kinte
Ultra master
Super sensei
Dog, in the 9th inning we just trying to hit a homer
Marge, comprende?
Hard, al-dente
MJ. Jordan or Jackson?
Only difference is I ain’t fuckin with these kids
Sean, big.
A problem too big, trig.
You niggas ain’t shit, pissed.
Tsk, tsk.

Full version of Big Sean’s Supa Dupa available here!

Exactly.

lil-wayne-lollipop

Shoot yourself if you don’t think this verse deserves the credit.

A Millionaire,
I’m a young money millionaire, tougher than Nigerian hair,
My criteria compared to your career just isn’t fair
I’m a venereal disease like a menstrual
I bleed through the pencil and leak on the sheet of the tablet in my mind,
Cuz I don’t write shit cuz I aint got time,
Cuz my seconds, minutes, hours go to the almighty dollar,
And the almighty power of dat cha cha cha cha chopper,
Sister, Brother, Son, Daughter, Father mothafuck the copper,
Got da Maserati dancin on the bridge pussy poppin,
Tell the coppers..ha ha ha ha you cant catch em, you cant stop em,
I go by them goon rules
if you cant beat em then you pop em,
You cant man em then you mop em,
You cant stand em then you drop em,
You pop em cuz we pop em like Orville Redenbacher,
Young money.

Exactly.

common_330

Since Common didn’t come out during Black Star’s performance of the classic Respiration joint I felt it was only fitting to post his verse as it is probably one of his most incredible verses.

Yo…on The Amen, Corner I stood looking at my former hood
Felt the spirit in the wind, knew my friend was gone for good
Threw dirt on the casket, the hurt, I couldn’t mask it
Mixin down emotions, struggle I hadn’t mastered
I choreograph seven steps to heaven
And hell, waiting to exhale and make the bread leavened
Veteran of a cold war It’s Chica-I-go for
What I know or, what’s known
So some days I take the bus home, just to touch home
From the crib I spend months gone
Sat by the window with a clutched dome listening to shorties cuss long
Young girls with weak minds, but they butt strong
Tried to call, or at least beep the Lord, but didn’t have a touch-tone
It’s a dog-eat-dog world, you gotta mush on
Some of this land I must own
Outta the city, they want us gone
Tearing down the ‘jects creating plush homes
My circumstance is between Cabrini and Love Jones
Surrounded by hate, yet I love home
Ask my God how he thought traveling the world sound
Found it hard to imagine he hadn’t been past downtown
It’s deep, I heard the city breathe in its sleep
Of reality I touch, but for me it’s hard to keep
Deep, I heard my man breathe in his sleep
Of reality I touch, but for me it’s hard to keep

Exactly.

l_68c0d193299fdff82bacef01a3eb71f9

Easily one of the top 10 illest verses of 2008.

I spit that wonderama shit
Me and my conglomerates shall remain anonymous
Caught up in the finest shit.
Get that type of media coverage Obama gets
Spit that Kurt Vonnegut
That blow your brain Kurt Cobain
That Nirvana shit
Who gon bring the game back?
Who gon spit that Ramo on the train tracks?
That gold rope….
That 5 finger ring rap?
Running with my same pack
You can find the Christ where the leopars and the lames at
Life is like a dice game
One roll can land you in jail or cutting cake, blowing kisses in the rice rain.
Nice whip. Nice chain.
A closet of skulls.
The stench is like slave blood in Providence Hall
Yeah, they built my city on top of a grave
Niggas die, niggas get high and watch the parade
Back in the early 90’s, “Where they at? Where they at? Get the gat! Get the gat!” was a popular phrase.
Bally animals and rugby’s was a popular craze
It’s the vivid memoirs of an obnoxious slave
I pave ways like Nat and Harriet
I’ll blast on Judas Iscariot and peel off in a chariot.
I’m sitting pretty, spitting flames, gripping grain.
Ain’t a damn thing change…

Exactly.

Next Page →