You can’t fool all the people all of the time,
But if you fool the right ones, the rest will fall behind.
Dead Prez, “Propaganda,” Let’s Get Free, 2000
Now what Clan you know with lines this ill?
Bust shots at Big Ben, like we got time to kill.
Method Man, “Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off),” from Wu-Tang Clan’s The W, 2000
They use the simple back and forth, the same, old rhythm
That a baby can pick up, and join, right with ‘em.
But their rhymes are pathetic, they think they copacetic
Using nursery terms, at least not poetic…
Kool Keith, “Ego Trippin,” from Ultramagnetic MC’s Critical Beatdown, 1988
Cause the boyz in the hood are always hard,
You come talkin’ that trash, we’ll pull your card.
Knowin’ nothin’ in life but to be legit,
Don’t quote me boy, cause I ain’t sayin’ shit.
Eazy-E, “Boyz-N-The-Hood,” from N.W.A. & The Posse, 1987. Eric “Eazy-E” Lynn Wright (September 7, 1963 – March 26, 1995) (via upnorthtrips)
We got it on lock like Barack got the nomination
Masta Ace, “Pass the Mic,” from Masta Ace & Edo G’s Arts and Entertainment, 2009
These niggaz ain’t thugs, the real thugs is the government.
Don’t matter if you Independent, Democrat or Republican,
Niggaz politickin’ the street, get into beef,
Start blastin’…now a new cat is executive chief.
Talib Kweli, “Ghetto Afterlife,” from Reflection Eternal’s Train of Thought, 2000
Let’s advance the game:
How many times can we rhyme about cars and chains?
How many bricks can a nigga really sell?
How many times can a nigga really go to jail?
How many murders can you do on one album?
Put ‘em together, must of did about a thousand.
I’m just saying, let’s change it up.
If not, nigga, hang it up.
Lord Jamar, “Advance the Game,” The 5% Album, 2006
Battling me is some deadly shit,
So come equipped with rhymes, guns and two extra clips.
Aim for the head, ‘cause you don’t wear a vest there,
Bullet makes a window, your brain needing fresh air.
MF Grimm, “Emotions,” Scars & Memories, 2005
Next time you see a brother down
Stop and pick him up,
Cause you might be the next one stuck.
Grand Puba, “Mind Your Business,” Ya Know How It Goes 12", 1992
Never become so involved with something that it blinds you.
Never forget where you from; someone will remind you.
DMX, “It’s On,” from DJ Clue’s The Professional, 1998
Rappers spit rhymes that are mostly illegal,
MC’s spit rhymes to uplift their people.
KRS-One, “Classic (Better Than I’ve Ever Been),” 2007
I will endanger your species like an ostrich,
Hold you hostage, and crazy feed you swine sausage!
Busta Rhymes, “Do My Thing,” The Coming, 1996
I don’t like thugs, I don’t like nerds,
I don’t like myself and I hate bein’ disturbed.
Sean Price, “Critically Acclaimed,” from Statik Selektah’s 100 Proof (The Hangover), 2010
Wouldn’t it be nice if life was sort of like a dream,
And everything wasn’t really what it seemed?
What if everything you ever wished for was in reach,
And you could learn everything your school didn’t teach?
Wouldn’t it be nice if the banks didn’t fuck up the loans,
And people ain’t have to move out they homes?
With no GM or AIG…and for that matter no cancer or A-I-D?
Bun B, “So Close, So Far,” from Statik Selektah’s 100 Proof (The Hangover), 2010
Braniac dumb-dumbs, bust the scientifical,
Approach to the course and the force is centrifugal.
Can you find your way through the lyrics that be catchin’ ‘em?
Throw another rhyme across the room, they be fetchin’ ’em.
Masta Ace, “Jeep Ass Niguh,” Slaughtahouse, 1993
6’n the mornin’ police at my door,
Fresh Adidas squeak across the bathroom floor.
Out the back window I make a escape,
Don’t even get a chance to grab my old school tape…
Ice-T, “6’N the Mornin’,” Rhyme Pays, 1987
Alright, it’s getting really close to the election day.
I’m voting; please don’t cut off my Section 8.
As soon as pastor pass the collection plate,
I’m like, ‘Shit, I’m trying to stack for a Escalade!’
Casual, “It’s Like That,” from Handsome Boy Modeling School’s White People, 2004
Telling my business to kids I don’t even know,
You’re like a daytime talk show…and that’s low.
Guru, “Take it Personal,” from Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
How far must you go to gain respect? Um…
Well, it’s kind of simple: just remain your own.
Or you’ll be crazy sad and alone.
Q-Tip, “Check the Rhime,” from A Tribe Called Quest’s The Low End Theory, 1991
I want a girl with extensions in her hair,
Bamboo earrings, at least two pair,
A Fendi bag and a bad attitude,
That’s all I need to get me in a good mood.
She can walk with a switch and talk with street slang,
I love it when a woman ain’t scared to do her thing.
LL Cool J, “Around the Way Girl,” Mama Said Knock You Out, 1990
I left my Phillie at home,
Do you have another?
I wanna get blunted, my brother.
Smooth B, “DWYCK,” from Gang Starr’s Hard to Earn, 1994
Some seek fame cause they need validation,
Some say hating is confused admiration.
Nas, “Stay,” Life is Good, 2012
Once in awhile, I’mma cheat and get dome,
But best believe that I’mma always come home.
Shorty, I luv you.
Meyhem Lauren, “Let’s Hold Hands,” Respect The Fly Shit, 2012
Type to tote the glock and use gats…
You the type to vote Barack cause dude’s black.
Sean P, “Grown Man Palettes,” from Meyhem Lauren’s Respect The Fly Shit, 2012
Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns,
As I crush so-called Willies, thugs, and rapper-dons.
The Notorious B.I.G., “Kick in the Door,” Life After Death, 1997
Why’s my name the Large Professor?
Cause I milked your cow, in other words I hit your heifer.
Large Professor, “Live at the Barbecue,” from Main Source’s Breaking Atoms, 1991
I’m no slave to a rhythm, I whip it,
Then I take its name and change its religion,
Then I chop the foot off the fuckin’ beat
For trying to escape the track, now it’s obsolete.
Pharoahe Monch, “Thirteen,” from Organized Konfusion’s Stress: The Extinction Agenda, 1994
Scared of a bunch of water? Then get out the rain.
Order a rapper for lunch, and spit out the chain.
MF Doom, “Sofa King,” from Danger Doom’s The Mouse and the Mask, 2005
Shoot eagles on the Jack Nicklaus course,
Porsche with the triple exhaust,
Seats soft like a midget’s cough…
Action Bronson, “Midget Cough,” from Mick Boogie’s Represent the Stripes, 2012
And when I smiled, ‘Bing!’ I almost blinded her.
She said, ‘Great Scot, are you a thief?
Seems like you have a mouth full of gold teeth!’
Hahahaha, had to find that funny,
So I said, ‘No child, I work hard for the money.
And calling me a thief? Please…don’t even try it,
Sit down, eat your slice of pizza, and be quiet.’
Slick Rick, “Mona Lisa,” The Great Adventures of Slick Rick, 1988
Music just ain’t what it used to;
We used to have songs that you could shoplift or boost to.
Jadakiss, “Hip-Hop (Remix),” from Grand Theft Auto IV soundtrack, 2008
You’ve got to realize that the world’s a test,
You can only do your best and let Him do the rest.
You’ve got your life, and got your health,
So quit procrastinating and push it yourself.
Cee-Lo, “In Due Time,” from Soul Food Soundtrack, 1997
I wonder, who do you believe in? I know it ain’t me,
I hope it ain’t a priest, or who you seen on TV.
I hope it ain’t your poppa, potna, he only raised you.
And I know it ain’t your mom, even though that’s who you came through…
Blu, “A Man,” from Blu & Exile’s Maybe One Day, 2012
I got a ill gift, I’m real swift
They be like, ‘Damn, he’s still rich.’
When I send my Men in Black,
Listen, none of them niggas named Will Smith.
Cam’ron, “60 Rackz (Remix)”, 2012
Hood forever, I just act like I’m civilized.
Really what’s in my mind is organizing a billion Black motherfuckers
To take over JP Morgan, Goldman and Sachs
And teach the world facts and give Saudi they oil back.
Nas, “No Introduction,” Life is Good, 2012
Ronald Reagan was an actor. Not at all a factor,
Just an employee of the country’s real masters.
Just like the Bushes, Clinton and Obama,
Just another talkin’ head tellin’ lies on teleprompters.
If you don’t believe the theory, then argue with this logic:
Why did Reagan and Obama both go after Gaddafi?
We invaded sovereign soil, goin’ after oil
Takin’ countries as a hobby paid for by the oil lobby,
Same as Iraq and Afghanistan.
And Ahmadinejad sayin’ they comin’ for Iran…
Killer Mike, “Reagan,” R.A.P. Music, 2012
I show more blind rage than Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles wrestling in a steel cage.
Chino XL, “Freestyle Rhymes,” Here to Save You All, 1996
If rhyme is a crime, my mic is my co-defendant.
Cormega, “Focused Up,” from Large Professor’s Professor @ Large, 2012
So why you pushin’ it? Why you lyin’ for? I know where you live,
I know your folks, you was a sucka as a kid.
Your persona’s drama that you acquired in high school in actin’ class,
Your whole aura is plexiglass.
What’s-her-face told me you shot this kid last week in the park;
That’s a lie, you was in church with your moms.
O.C., “Time’s Up,” Word…Life, 1994
I had a cigarette for breakfast, just for beginners,
Cried for my lunch, and sleep for dinner.
G. Dep, “Everyday,” Child of the Ghetto, 2001
I don’t like a girl that be hanging with a slut crew,
I can’t sport a female who’s crossed-eyed with a buck tooth.
I need a female I can sport when I’m outdoors.
I’m not choosy…I got a rep to look out for.
Lord Finesse, “I Like My Girls With a Boom,” Return of the Funky Man, 1992
It’s a thin line between paper and hate,
Friends and snakes, nine millis and thirty-eights,
Hell or the pearly gates…I was destined to come,
Predicted, blame God, He blew breath in my lungs.
Nas, “Hate Me Now,” I Am…, 1999
EPMD in effect, I’m clockin’ mad green
Like Kermit the Frog, sloppy like Boss Hog,
Girl was runnin’ wild…ate her like a corn dog.
Parrish Smith, “Chill,” from EPMD’s Business Never Personal, 1992
For underground metaphors, you can scrape an inch below the turf.
For what it’s worth, my style’s been developed in the core of the Earth.
The exhale’s volcanic, the inhale is seismic…
J-Live, “Braggin’ Writes,” 12", 1995
Sunny days wouldn’t be special…if it wasn’t for rain.
Joy wouldn’t feel so good…if it wasn’t for pain.
Death gotta be easy, ‘cause life is hard,
It’ll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred.
50 Cent, “Many Men (Wish Death),” Get Rich or Die Tryin’, 2003
It’s ninety-six degrees in the shade…
Before I catch blood on my blade.
Keith Murray, “Hostile,” from Erick Sermon’s No Pressure, 1993