Best Rap Verses of All Time

Avatar KillaCam Liste de

103 morceaux

par KillaCam

Les meilleurs couplets du rap classés années par années, de 1987 à aujourd'hui.

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  • Écouter

    Paid in Full (1987)

    3:49. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 8 albums.

    Morceau de Eric B. & Rakim

    [ 1987 ]

    Rakim :

    "Thinking of a master plan
    Cause ain’t nothing but sweat inside my hand
    So I dig into my pocket, all my money spent
    So I dig deeper but still coming up with lint
    So I start my mission, leave my residence
    Thinking how could I get some dead presidents
    I need money, I used to be a stick-up kid
    So I think of all the devious things I did
    I used to roll up, this is a hold up, ain’t nothing funny
    Stop smiling, be still, don’t nothing move but the money
    But now I learned to earn cause I’m righteous
    I feel great, so maybe I might just
    Search for a 9 to 5, if I strive
    Then maybe I’ll stay alive
    So I walk up the street, whistling this
    Feeling out of place cause, man, do I miss
    A pen and a paper, a stereo, a tape of
    Me and Eric B and a nice big plate of
    Fish, which is my favorite dish
    But without no money it’s still a wish
    Cause I don’t like to dream about getting paid
    So I dig into the books of the rhymes that I made
    So now's a test to see if I got pull
    Hit the studio, cause I’m paid in full."
  • Écouter

    Lyrics of Fury (1997)

    4:12. Présent dans 5 albums.

    Morceau de Eric B. & Rakim

    [ 1988 ]

    Rakim (Verse 2) :

    "Terror in the styles, never error-files,
    Indeed I’m known-your exiled!
    For those that oppose to be level or next to this...
    I ain’t a devil and this ain’t the exorcist!
    Worse than a nightmare, you don’t have to sleep a wink,
    The pain’s a migraine every time ya think,
    Flashbacks interfere, ya start to hear:
    The r-a-k-i-m in your ear;
    Then the beat is hysterical,
    That makes eric go get a ax and chops the wack,
    Soon the lyrical format is superior,
    Faces of death remain,
    Mc’s decaying, cuz they never stayed,
    The scene of a crime every night at the show,
    The fiend of a rhyme on the mic that you know,
    It’s only one capable, breaks-the unbreakable,
    Melodies-unmakable, pattern-unecscapable,
    A horn if want the style I posses,
    I bless the child, the earth, the gods and bomb the rest,
    For those that envy a mc it can be,
    Hazardous to your health so be friendly,
    A matter of life and death, just like a ethch-a-sketch,
    Shake ’till your clear, make it disappear, make the next,
    After the ceremony, let the rhyme rest in peace,
    If not, my soul’ll release!
    The scene is recreated, reincarnated, updated, I’m glad you made it,
    Cuz your about to see a disasterous sight,
    A performance never again performed on a mic:
    Lyrics of fury!"
  • Écouter

    Straight Outta Compton (2007)

    4:16. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 10 albums.

    Morceau de N.W.A

    [ 1988 ]

    Ice Cube (Verse 1) :

    "Straight outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube
    From the gang called Niggas Wit Attitudes
    When I'm called off, I got a sawed-off
    Squeeze the trigger and bodies are hauled off
    You too boy if you fuck with me
    The police are gonna have to come and get me
    Off yo ass, that's how I'm going out
    For the punk motherfuckers that's showing out
    Niggas start to mumble, they wanna rumble
    Mix em and cook em in a pot like gumbo
    Going off on a motherfucker like that
    With a gat, that's pointed at yo ass
    So give it up smooth
    Ain't no telling when I'm down for a jack move
    Here's a murder rap to keep you dancing
    With a crime record like Charles Manson
    AK-47 is the tool
    Don't make me act the motherfucking fool
    Me you can go toe to toe, no maybe
    I'm knocking niggas out the box, daily
    Yo weekly, monthly and yearly
    Until them dumb motherfuckers see clearly
    That I'm down with the capital C-P-T
    Boy, you can't fuck with me
    So when I'm in your neighborhood, you better duck
    Cause Ice Cube is crazy as fuck
    As I leave, believe I'm stomping
    But when I come back boy, I'm coming straight outta Compton."
  • Rampage (remix radio edit) (1991)

    Rampage (feat. LL Cool J) (remix radio edit)

    3:51. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de EPMD et LL Cool J

    [ 1991 ]

    LL Cool J (Verse 2) :

    "The Ripper, the master, the overlordian
    Playing MC's like a old accordion
    I get the inspiration from unnecessary station
    Them sayin I was vacationin
    You can't quote with your weaker throat
    Tryin to sneak a peek at how I freak the notes
    Major MC's become minor B-flats
    So retire the mic, get your chains and your bats
    Here's your chance to advance, get in your stance
    I shoot the holster off your cowboy pants
    Pure entertainment, tonight's your arraignment
    You're guilty - face down on the pavement!
    No holds barred, it's time to get scarred
    You and your squad better praise the real God
    The undertaker, droppin thunder on fakers
    When it comes to lyrics I'm as freaky as Seka
    So lay the mic down slow and careful
    Cause mine is fully loaded and I got another handful
    A clip to slip in and start rippin
    Divin and dippin and givin punks a whippin (aww shit)
    Just in case you wanna go a few rounds or so
    I'm down so that you clowns'll know
    Me gettin burnt or hurt won't be tolerated
    I got rhymes up the huh - forget it I'm constipated - L!"
  • Écouter

    Live at the Barbeque (1991)

    Live at the Barbeque (feat. Nas, Fatal & Akinyele)

    4:35. Présent dans 2 albums.

    Morceau de Main Source

    [ 1991 ]

    Nas (Verse 1) :

    "Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
    I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
    Stampede the stage, I leave the microphone split
    Play Mr Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit
    Verbal assassin, my architect pleases
    When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffing Jesus
    Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
    Police murderer, I'm causing hysteria
    My troops roll up with a strange force
    I was trapped in a cage and let out by the Main Source
    Swimming in women like a lifeguard
    Put on a bulletproof nigga I strike hard
    Kidnap the President's wife without a plan
    And hanging niggas like the Ku Klux Klan
    I melt mics till the sound wave's over
    Before stepping to me you'd rather step to Jehovah
    Slamming MC's on cement
    Cause verbally, I'm iller than a AIDS patient
    I move swift and uplift your mind
    Shoot the gift when I riff in rhyme
    Rapping sniper, speaking real words
    My thoughts react, like Steven Spielberg's
    Poetry attacks, paragraphs punch hard
    My brain is insane, I'm out to lunch, God
    Science is dropped, my raps are toxic
    My voicebox locks and excels like a rocket."
  • Écouter

    Brenda’s Got a Baby (1991)

    Brenda's Got a Baby

    3:54. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 4 albums.

    Morceau de 2Pac

    [ 1991 ]

    2Pac :

    "I hear Brenda's got a baby
    But Brenda's barely got a brain
    A damn shame, the girl can hardly spell her name
    That's not our problem, that's up to Brenda's family
    Well let me show you how it affects our whole community
    Now Brenda never really knew her moms
    And her dad was a junkie putting death into his arms
    It's sad, cause I bet Brenda doesn't even know
    Just cause you're in the ghetto doesn't mean you can't grow
    But oh, that's a thought, my own revelation
    Do whatever it takes to resist the temptation
    Brenda got herself a boyfriend
    Her boyfriend was her cousin, now let's watch the joy end
    She tried to hide her pregnancy, from her family
    Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she
    Went out and had a church of kids
    As long as when the check came they got first dibs
    Now Brenda's belly is getting bigger
    But no one seems to notice any change in her figure
    She's twelve years old and she's having a baby
    In love with a molester, who's sexing her crazy
    And yet and she thinks that he'll be with her forever
    And dreams of a world where the two of them are together, whatever
    He left her and she had the baby solo
    She had it on the bathroom floor and didn't know so
    She didn't know, what to throw away and what to keep
    She wrapped the baby up and threw him in a trash heap
    I guess she thought she'd get away, wouldn't hear the cries
    She didn't realize how much the the little baby had her eyes
    Now the baby's in the trash heap bawling
    Momma can't help her, but it hurts to hear her calling
    Brenda wants to run away
    Momma say, you making me lose pay
    The social workers here everyday
    Now Brenda's gotta make her own way
    Can't go to her family, they won't let her stay
    No money no babysitter, she couldn't keep a job
    She tried to sell crack but end up getting robbed
    So now what's next, there ain't nothing left to sell
    So she sees sex as a way of leaving hell
    It's paying the rent, so she really can't complain
    Prostitute, found slain and Brenda's her name, she's got a baby."
  • Scenario (edited LP) (1992)

    4:10. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de A Tribe Called Quest et Leaders of the New School

    [ 1992 ]

    Busta Rhymes :

    "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' in-to my library
    Oh-my-gosh! Oh my gosh!
    Eating Ital Stew like the one Peter Tosh
    Unh! Unh! Unh! All over the track, man
    Unh, pardon me, unh! As I come back
    As I did it yo I had to beg your pardon
    When I travel through the town I roll with the squadron
    RRRRAOWR, RRRRAOW, like a dungeon dragon
    Change your little drawers cause your pants were saggin'
    Try to step to this, I will twist you in a turban
    And have you smelling ripe like some old, stale urine
    Chickity Choco, the chocolate chicken
    The rear cock diesel, buttcheeks, they were kicking
    Yo, bust it out before the Busta bust another rhyme
    The rhythm is in sync (Uh!) the rhymes are on time (Time!)
    Ripping up the sound just like Horatio
    Observe the vibe and check out the scenario
    Yeah, my man, mothafucka!"
  • Écouter

    Nuthin' but a "G" Thang (2003)

    3:56. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 41 albums.

    Morceau de Dr. Dre et Snoop Dogg

    [ 1992 ]

    Snoop Doggy Dogg (Verse 1) :

    "1, 2, 3 and to the 4
    Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre is at the door
    Ready to make an entrance so back on up
    (Cause you know we're about to rip shit up)
    Give me the microphone first so I can bust like a bubble
    Compton and Long Beach together now you know you in trouble
    Ain't nothing but a G thang, baby
    Two loc'ed out niggas so we're crazy
    Death Row is the label that pays me
    Unfadeable so please don't try to fade this
    But um back to the lecture at hand
    Perfection is perfected, so I'mma let em understand
    From a young G's perspective
    And before me dig out a bitch I have to find a contraceptive
    You never know, she could be earning her man
    And learning her man and at the same time burning her man
    Now you know I ain't with that shit, Lieutenant
    Ain't no pussy good enough to get burnt while I'm up in it (Yeah)
    And that's realer than Real-Deal Holyfield
    And now you hookers and hoes know how I feel
    Well, if it's good enough to get broke off a proper chunk
    I'll take a small piece of some of that funky stuff."
  • Écouter

    It Was a Good Day (1992)

    4:20. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 5 albums.

    Morceau de Ice Cube (explicit)

    [ 1992 ]

    Ice Cube (Verse 1) :

    "Just waking up in the morning, gotta thank God
    I don't know but today seems kinda odd
    No barking from the dog, no smog
    And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog
    I got my grub on, but didn't pig out
    Finally got a call from a girl I wanna dig out
    Hooked it up for later as I hit the door
    Thinking will I live another 24
    I gotta go cause I got me a drop-top
    And if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop
    Had to stop at a red light
    Looking in my mirror and not a jacker in sight
    And everything is alright
    I got a beep from Kim, and she can fuck all night
    Called up the homies and I'm asking y'all
    "Which park are y'all playing basketball?"
    Get me on the court and I'm trouble
    Last week fucked around and got a triple double
    Freaking niggas every way like MJ
    I can't believe today was a good day."
  • Écouter

    C.R.E.A.M. (2005)

    4:12. Présent dans 10 albums.

    Morceau de Wu‐Tang Clan

    [ 1993 ]

    Inspectah Deck (Verse 2) :

    "It's been twenty-two long hard years of still struggling
    Survival got me bugging, but I'm alive on arrival
    I peep at the shape of the streets
    And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep
    A man with a dream with plans to make cream
    Which failed; I went to jail at the age of fifteen
    A young buck selling drugs and such who never had much
    Trying to get a clutch at what I could not touch
    The court played me short, now I face incarceration
    Pacin' - going upstate's my destination
    Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us
    Life as a shorty shouldn't be so rough
    But as the world turns I learned life is hell
    Living in the world no different from a cell
    Every day I escape from Jakes giving chase, selling base
    Smoking bones in the staircase
    Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess
    I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed
    But I'm still depressed and I ask what's it worth
    Ready to give up so I seek the old Earth
    Who explained working hard may help you maintain
    To learn to overcome the heartaches and pain
    We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks and
    Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot
    Leave it up to me while I be living proof
    To kick the truth to the young Black youth
    But shorty's running wild, smoking sess, drinking beer
    And ain't trying to hear what I'm kicking in his ear
    Neglected for now, but yo, it gots to be accepted
    That what, that life is hectic."
  • Écouter

    Keep Ya Head Up (1996)

    Bande originale et rap/hip hop/r&b. Présent dans 8 albums.

    Morceau de 2Pac

    [ 1993 ]

    2Pac (Verse 1) :

    "Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice
    I say the darker the flesh then the deeper the roots
    I give a holla to my sisters on welfare
    2Pac cares, if don't nobody else care
    And, I know they like to beat you down a lot
    When you come around the block, brothers clown a lot
    But please don't cry, dry your eyes, never let up
    Forgive but don't forget, girl, keep your head up
    And when he tells you you ain't nothin', don't believe him
    And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him
    Cause sister, you don't need him
    And I ain't tryin' to gas ya up, I just call 'em how I see 'em
    You know what makes me unhappy
    When brothers make babies, and leave a young mother to be a pappy
    And since we all came from a woman
    Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman
    I wonder why we take from our women
    Why we rape our women, do we hate our women
    I think it's time to kill for our women
    Time to heal our women, be real to our women
    And if we don't we'll have a race of babies
    That will hate the ladies that make the babies
    And since a man can't make one
    He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one
    So will the real men get up
    I know you're fed up ladies, but keep your head up."
  • Écouter

    N.Y. State of Mind (1994)

    4:54. Présent dans 3 albums.

    Morceau de Nas

    [ 1994 ]

    Nas (Verse 1) :

    "Rappers, I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm
    I be kicking, musician, inflictin' composition
    Of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine
    Holding an M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now
    Bullet holes 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, sitting bent up in the stairway
    Or either on the corner betting Grants with the cee-lo champs
    Laughing at baseheads trying to sell some broken amps
    G-packs get off quick, forever niggas talk shit
    Reminiscing about the last time the Task Force flipped
    Niggas be running 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 hitting niggas, 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 3 bullets caught up in the chamber
    So now I'm jetting to the building lobby
    And it was full of children probably couldn't see as high as I be
    (So what you saying?) It's like the game ain't the same
    Got younger niggas pulling the triggers, bringing fame to their name
    And claim some corners, crews without guns are goners
    In broad daylight, stickup kids: they run up on us
    4-5's and gauges, Macs, in fact
    Same niggas will catch a back-to-back, snatching your cracks in black
    There was a snitch on the block getting niggas knocked
    So hold your stash 'til the coke price drop
    I know this crackhead who said she's got to smoke nice rock
    And if it's good, she'll bring you customers in measuring pots
    But yo, you gotta slide on a vacation, inside information
    Keeps large niggas erasin' and their 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."
  • Écouter

    Life's a Bitch (2007)

    3:30. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 2 albums.

    Morceau de Nas

    [ 1994 ]

    AZ (Verse 1) :

    "Visualizing the realism of life in 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 5 percenters
    But something must have got in us cause all of us turned to sinners
    Now some resting in peace and some are sitting in San Quentin
    Others such as myself are trying to carry on tradition
    Keeping this Schweppervescent 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 leaving thieving, we'll be leaving with some kind of dough
    So, until that day we expire and turn to vapors
    Me and my capers, will be somewhere else stackin' plenty papers
    Keeping it real, packing steel, getting high
    Cause life's a bitch and then you die."
  • Écouter

    Memory Lane (Sittin’ in da Park) (1994)

    Memory Lane (Sittin' in da Park)

    4:08. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de Nas

    [ 1994 ]

    Nas (Verse 1) :

    "I sip the Dom P, watching Gandhi til I'm charged
    Then writing in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin
    To hold the mic I'm throbbin', mechanical movement
    Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with
    The thief's theme - play me at night, they won't act right
    The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe
    The mind activation, react like I'm facing time like
    Pappy Mason, with pens I'm embracing
    Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets
    Suede Timbs on my feet makes my cipher complete
    Whether cruising in a Sikh's cab or Montero Jeep
    I can't call it; the beats make me falling asleep
    I keep falling, but never falling six feet deep
    I'm out for presidents to represent me (say what)
    I'm out for presidents to represent me (say what)
    I'm out for dead presidents to represent me."
  • Écouter

    The World Is Yours (1994)

    4:50. Présent dans 3 albums.

    Morceau de Nas

    [ 1994 ]

    Nas (Verse 1) :

    "I sip the Dom P, watching Gandhi til I'm charged
    Then writing in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin
    To hold the mic I'm throbbin', mechanical movement
    Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with
    The thief's theme - play me at night, they won't act right
    The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe
    The mind activation, react like I'm facing time like
    Pappy Mason, with pens I'm embracing
    Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets
    Suede Timbs on my feet makes my cipher complete
    Whether cruising in a Sikh's cab or Montero Jeep
    I can't call it; the beats make me falling asleep
    I keep falling, but never falling six feet deep
    I'm out for presidents to represent me (say what)
    I'm out for presidents to represent me (say what)
    I'm out for dead presidents to represent me."
  • Écouter

    Halftime (1994)

    4:21. Présent dans 4 albums.

    Morceau de Nas

    [ 1994 ]

    Nas (Verse 1) :

    "Before I blunt, I take out my fronts
    Then I start to front; matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
    You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer
    That's like Malcolm X catching the Jungle Fever
    King poetic. Too much flavor, I'm major
    Atlanta ain't Brave-r, I'll pull a number like a pager
    Cause I'm an ace when I face the bass
    40-side is the place that is giving me grace
    Now wait, another dose and you might be dead
    And I'm a Nike-head, I wear chains that excite the Feds
    And ain't a damn thing gonna change
    I'mma performer strange, so the mic warmer was born to gain
    Nas, why did you do it
    You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime."
  • Écouter

    It Ain't Hard to Tell (2003)

    3:21. Présent dans 6 albums.

    Morceau de Nas

    [ 1994 ]

    Nas (Verse 1) :

    "It ain't hard to tell, I excel then prevail
    The mic is contacted, I attract clientele
    My mic check is life or death, breathing a sniper's breath
    I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps
    Deep like the Shining, sparkle like a diamond
    Sneak a Uzi on the island in my army jacket lining
    Hit the Earth like a comet – invasion!
    Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazing
    Cause in my physical, I can express through song
    Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong
    I drink Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell
    From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell."
  • Écouter

    Times Up

    3:27. Présent dans 2 albums.

    Morceau de O.C.

    [ 1994 ]

    O.C. (Verse 1) :

    "You lack the minerals and vitamins, irons anAnnotated the niacin
    Fuck who that I offend, rappers sit back I'm bout to begin
    Bout foul talk you sqwak, never even walked the walk
    More less destined to get tested, never been arrested
    My album will manifest many things that I saw did or heard about
    All told first hand, never word of mouth
    What's in the future for the fusion in the changer?
    Rappers are in danger, who will use wits to be a remainder
    When the missile is aimed, to blow you out of the frame
    Some will keep their limbs and, some will be maimed
    The same suckers with the gab about, killer instincts
    But turned bitch and knowin damn well they lack
    In this division the conniseur, crackin your head with a 4 by 4
    Realize sucka, I be the comin' like Noah
    Always simmer you down, perpetratin facadin what you consider
    A image, to me this is, just a scrimmage
    I'm feel I'm stone, not cause I bop or wear my cap cocked
    The more emotion I put into it, the harder I rock
    Those who pose lyrical but really ain't true I feel."
  • Écouter

    Ain’t the Devil Happy (1994)

    Ain't the Devil Happy

    3:44. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de Jeru the Damaja

    [ 1994 ]

    Jeru the Damaja (Verse 1) :

    "As devils search for the secrets to immortality
    I alter my physical chemistry
    Walk through the valley of the shadow of death
    I exist even when no things are left
    Vibrations transcend space and time
    Pure at heart because I deal with the mind
    That's why I compose these verses
    Audible worlds, my thoughts are now universes
    Written on these pages is the ageless
    Wisdom of the sages, ignorance is contagious
    So I hope you keep your focus
    There's no hocus-pocus, in the end, it's just us
    Devil got brother killin brother, it's insane
    Goin out like Abel and Cain
    Wisen up and use your brain
    There'll be no limit, to the things that you can gain
    In positivity, balance it with negativity
    Until then, ain't the devil happy."
  • Écouter

    Juicy (1994)

    5:02. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 7 albums.

    Morceau de The Notorious B.I.G.

    [ 1994 ]

    Biggie (Verse 1) :

    "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
    Smoking weed on Bambu, sipping 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 Starski (wassup)
    I'm blowing up like you thought I would
    Call the crib, same number same hood (that's right)
    It's all good (it's all good)
    And if you don't know, now you know, nigga."
  • Écouter

    Warning (1994)

    3:40. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 3 albums.

    Morceau de The Notorious B.I.G.

    [ 1994 ]

    Biggie :

    "Call the coroner!
    There's gonna be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing
    If my burglar alarm starts ringing
    What ya think all the guns is for?
    All-purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
    And I feed em gunpowder, so they can devour
    The criminals trying to drop my decimals
    Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my cream
    And it ain't a dream, things ain't always what it seem
    It's the ones that smoke blunts with ya, see your picture
    Now they wanna grab they guns and come and get ya
    Bet ya Biggie won't slip
    I got the Calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
    So I can rip through the ligaments
    Put the fuckers in a bad predicament, where all the foul niggas went
    Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
    Buck! What I'mma hit you with you motherfuckers better duck
    I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
    Of his jacket - he had a gun he shoulda packed it
    Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
    So I can reload and explode on you rasshole
    I fuck around and get hardcore
    C-4 to your door, no beef no more nigga
    Feel the rough, scandalous
    The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
    I don't give a fuck about you or your weak crew
    What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you?
    I'm not running, nigga I bust my gun and
    Hold on, I hear somebody coming."
  • Écouter

    The What (radio edit) (1995)

    4:00. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de The Notorious B.I.G.

    [ 1994 ]

    Method Man (Verse 2) :

    "...T-H-O-D Man, here I am
    I'll be damned if this ain't some shit
    Come to spread the butter lyrics over harmony grits
    It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet-black ninja
    Coming where you rest at, surrender
    Step inside the ring, you's the number one contender
    Looking cold-booty like your pussy in December
    Nigga stop bitching, button up your lip and
    From Method all you getting is a can of ass-whipping
    Hey, I'll be kicking, you son, you doing all the yapping
    Acting as if it can't happen
    Your frontin' got me mad enough to touch something
    Yo I'm from Shaolin Island and ain't afraid to bust something
    So what you want nigga, you won't nigga
    I got a 6-shooter and a horse named Trigger
    It's real, '94 rugged-raw
    Kicking down your goddamn door
    (And it goes a little something like this)."
  • Écouter

    Suicidal Thoughts (1994)

    2:53. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de The Notorious B.I.G.

    [ 1994 ]

    Biggie :

    "When I die, fuck it, I wanna go to hell
    Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fucking tell
    It don't make sense, going to heaven with the goodie-goodies
    Dressed in white, I like black Timbs and black hoodies
    God'll prolly have me on some real strict shit
    No sleeping all day, no getting my dick licked
    Hanging with the goodie-goodies lounging in paradise
    Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
    (You talking some crazy shit now, nigga)
    All my life I been considered as the worst
    Lying to my mother, even stealing out her purse
    Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
    I know my mother wished she got a fucking abortion
    She don't even love me like she did when I was younger
    (Get a hold of yourself nigga)
    Sucking on her chest just to stop my fucking hunger
    I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes
    Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
    My baby mother's eight months, her little sister's two
    Who's to blame for both of them
    (Naw nigga, not you)
    I swear to God I want to just slit my wrists and end this bullshit
    Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
    (Nigga what the fuck)
    And squeeze, until the bed's completely red
    (It's too late for this shit)
    I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fucking buddha head
    The stress is building up, I can't
    (Yo, I'm on my way over there man)
    I can't believe suicide's on my fucking mind, I wanna leave
    I swear to God I feel like death is fucking calling me
    Naw you wouldn't understand
    (Nigga talk to me please, man)
    You see it's kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
    Except when I cross over, there ain't no coming back
    (Yo, I'mma call you when I get in the car)
    Should I die on the train track, like Ramo in Beat Street
    People at the funeral fronting like they miss me
    My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone
    (Put your girl on the phone, nigga)
    She knew me and her sister had something going on
    I reach my peak, I can't speak
    (Yo, you listening to me motherfucker)
    Call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak
    (Eyo c'mon nigga)
    I'm sick of niggas lying, I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
    Matter of fact, I'm sick of talking
    (BANG)."
  • Écouter

    Communism (1994)

    2:17. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de Common

    [1994]

    Common :

    "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 Jack Jill's big bootay
    We did the booty up, I told the Bitch she Betta Have My Money
    Or step to the AMG
    You know Com Sense, oh yeah 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 music got known for the grease
    I got a sense of direction and a compass
    Com passed MC's with no compassion, though I heard the screams of
    But I ain't shy, so why shall I comfort?
    Com should have been at the fort with Jeff I'm so ill
    But I chilled in my compartment with no company and no meals
    Now Com could get the penny, 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."
  • Écouter

    I Used to Love H.E.R. (2007)

    4:41. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 3 albums.

    Morceau de Common

    [ 1994 ]

    Common (Verse 3) :

    "I might've failed to mention that this chick was creative
    Once the man got to her, he altered her native
    Told her if she got an image and a gimmick
    That she could make money, and she did it like a dummy
    Now I see her in commercials, she's universal
    She used to only swing it with the inner-city circle
    Now she be in the burbs, looking rock and dressing hippie
    And on some dumb shit, when she comes to the city
    Talking about popping Glocks serving rocks and hitting switches
    Now she's a gangsta rolling with gangsta bitches
    Always smoking blunts and getting drunk
    Telling me sad stories, now she only fucks with the funk
    Stressing how hardcore and "real" she is
    She was really the realest, before she got into showbiz
    I did her, not just to say that I did it
    But I'm committed (giiirl, he's committed), but so many niggas hit it
    That she's just not the same letting all these groupies do her
    I see niggas slamming her, and taking her to the sewer
    But I'mma take her back hoping that the shit stop
    Cause who I'm talking bout y'all is hip-hop."
  • Resurrection '95 (1995)

    4:00. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de Common

    [ 1995 ]

    Common (Verse 1) :

    "I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter-in
    That be scatterin
    Over the global my vocals be travellin'
    Unravellin my abdomen it's slime that's babblin
    Grammatics that are masculine
    I grab them in, verbally badgerin broads
    I wish that Madelyne, was back on Video LP
    Raps I make up like blacks do excuses
    I feel like Noah, hookin' my mellows up on deuces
    If a broad ain't got a mind or job or crib she useless
    Acoustic basslines embrace rhymes while I chase mines
    They say signs of the end is near
    I wonder can I walk a righteous path holdin a beer
    Got more verses than a Kramer, go off like a pager
    Skills uglier than Craig Mack in your ear I'm the flavor
    My old bird said some of my songs sound like noise
    Don't watch the Bulls as much, they got too many white boys
    A million black men walkin, towards one direction
    For sure, the cream of the planets... resurrection."
  • Écouter

    Flava in Ya Ear (remix) (dirty) (1994)

    Flava in Ya Ear (remix)

    5:05. Rap/hip hop/R&B. Présent dans 4 albums.

    Morceau de Craig Mack, The Notorious B.I.G., Rampage

    [1995 ]

    Biggie (Verse 1) :

    "Uh, uh
    Niggas is mad I get more butt than ash trays
    Fuck a fair one, I get mine the fast way
    Ski mask way, nigga ransom notes
    Far from handsome, but damn a nigga tote
    (What you tote)
    More guns than roses, foes is shaking in their boots
    Invisible bully like The Gooch
    Disappear, vamoose, you're wack to me
    Take them rhymes back to the factory
    I see the gimmicks, the wack lyrics, the shit is
    Depressing, pathetic, please forget it
    You're mad cause my style you're admiring
    Don't be mad, UPS is hiring
    You shoulda been a cop, fuck hip-hop
    With that freestyle you're bound to get shot
    Not from Houston but I rap-a-lot
    Pack the gat a lot
    The flav's bout to drop uh."
  • Who Shot Ya? (radio edit) (2001)

    5:20. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de The Notorious B.I.G.

    [ 1995 ]

    Biggie (Verse 1)

    "Who shot ya?
    Seperate the weak from the ob-solete
    Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
    It's on nigga, fuck all that bickering beef
    I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek
    Your heartbeat soun like Sasquatch feet
    Thundering, shaking the concrete
    Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot
    Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots
    Saw me in the drop, three and a quarter
    Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter
    Old school new school need to learn though
    I burn baby burn like Disco Inferno
    Burn slow like blunts with ya-yo
    Peel more skins than Idaho potato
    Niggaz know, the lyrics molestin is takin place
    Fuckin with B.I.G. it ain't safe
    I make your skin chafe, rashes on the masses
    Bumps and bruises, blunts and Landcruisers
    Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
    Niggaz mad because I know that Cash Rules
    Everything Around Me, two glock nines
    Any motherfucker whispering about mines
    And I'm, Crooklyn's finest
    You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this."
  • Écouter

    Guillotine (Swordz) (1995)

    Guillotine (Swordz) (feat. Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck & GZA/Genius)

    4:23. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck

    [ 1995 ]

    Inspectah Deck (Verse 1) :

    "Poisonous paragraphs smash your phonograph in half
    It be the Inspectah Deck on the warpath
    First class leaving mics with a cast
    Causing ruckus like the aftermath when guns blast
    Run fast, here comes the verbal assaulter
    Rhymes running wild like a child in a walker
    I scored from the inner slums abroad
    And my thoughts are razor sharp I sliced the mic from the cord
    First they criticize, but now they have become
    Mentally paralyzed with hits that I devise
    Now I testify, the rest is I, Rebel INS
    Your highness, blessed to electrify
    With voltage of a eel, truth that I reveal
    Will crush the amateurs who scream they keep it real
    Caesar black down hoodied up in fatigues
    Part time minor leagues receive third degrees
    Attack like a wolf pack, once I pull back
    The God-U, and bust through like a fullback."
  • Liquid Swords (LP version)

    3:21. Présent dans 1 album.

    Morceau de GZA/Genius

    [ 1995 ]

    GZA (Verse 1) :

    "Fake niggas get flipped
    In mic fights I swing swords and cut clowns
    Shit is too swift to bite you record and write it down
    I flow like the blood on a murder scene, like a syringe
    On some wild out shit, to insert a fiend
    But it was your op the shop stolen art
    Catch a swollen heart from not rolling smart
    I put mad pressure, on phony wack rhymes that get hurt
    Shit's played like zodiac signs on sweatshirt
    That's minimum, and feminine like sandals
    My minimum table stacks a verse on a gamble
    Energy is felt once the cards are dealt
    With the impact of roundhouse kicks from black belts
    That attack, the mic-fones like cyclones or typhoon
    I represent from midnight to high noon
    I don't waste ink, nigga I think
    I drop megaton bombs more faster than you blink
    Cause rhyme thoughts travel at a tremendous speed
    Clouds of smoke, of natural blends of weed
    Only under one circumstance that's if I'm blunted
    Turn that shit up, my clan in the front want it."