5 comments

1. 

   Comment by JP comin from that 813 on August 2, 2009 at 3:15 am

   Verse One: Nas

   Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
   I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
   When I’m deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
   to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
   Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
   Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
   Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
   I’m grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
   while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile
   Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker’s Isle
   Holdin weed inside they pussy with they minds on the
   pretty things in life, props is a true thug’s wife
   It’s like a cycle, niggaz come home, some’ll go in
   Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
   From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
   Guns salute life, rapidly, that’s the ritual

2. 

   Comment by Tical_Nikka on August 2, 2009 at 3:15 am

   Rapper:Inspectah Deck
   Song:Triumph

   (Inspectah Deck)

   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
   Rumblein 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 you hottest block

3. 

   Comment by Logan G on August 2, 2009 at 3:15 am

   common - the game

   [Chorus:]
   It’s only right that I address this.
   Gotta be in it to win it.
   I never come lame type chillin in the game.
   Now get busy

   [Verse 1:]
   Raised by game
   Where niggas ain’t fazed by fame.
   Come to the crib, get banged, they take your chain.
   Stay in your lane
   Broke back ain’t the way of the game.
   My brainstorm is like I stay in the ring.
   My favorite was Kane, now I’m dope with weight in the game
   You was hot but can’t stay in the rain.
   Ghetto pain and windows crack.
   The fist is like a symbol for black
   Can tell the real by how the interact
   In the middle of whack my soul stick to a track
   Kickback records get kicked to the back
   I want big cribs and my man Ronnie to get his
   Child in a good school and know what her gift is
   It’s global warming, the world is shifting
   Watching Sweet Sixteen, Bithin-ass rich kids
   You know, I know I gotta go the distance
   Whether yoga or doja, we all get lifted in the game.

   [Chorus]

   [Verse 2:]
   I never kissed that ass of the masters
   I’m the black molasses
   Thick and I last
   Pass these rat bastards
   They try to box me in like gaseous clay
   Hey I’m like Muhammad when he fasted
   Opposing the fascist
   Got cuts and got gashes, scratches over third eyelashes
   Punchlines are like jab pits to rappers
   Whose careers now ashes
   It’s too many slashes in their name
   Came in the game
   From weak lines to clothing lines to an actress
   I seen em dashing smash hits
   I yell run nigga run
   While I cook up classics
   The weak hearted, become Babylon puppets
   Making it hard for real hustlas
   Touch the sky now and then, with a lady friend
   Give thanks to the most that’s how the day begins in the game.

   [Chorus]

   [Verse 3:]
   I just wanna be like Akeelah, an achiever
   from the streets of the Chi where some get high for leisure
   Selling weed out of cleaners
   From rocks to barber shops and beamers
   Chicks with blond weaves and strong legs like Serena
   The demeanor of the Ghetto, to never stay settled
   Aldermen and corrupt men play Pharaoh
   Good bring business to the hood like heralds
   Find your own, walking by themselves in the street
   The young die of cancer
   I stopped eating meat
   Greet the gods on 87th street like peace
   Even though it’s , got em facing the east
   The game ain’t tasting as sweet
   Cats flow is still, and his compliance with beats
   My radio station is deep , so eff em
   Progression, counting paper and blessings in the game

   [Chorus]

4. 

   Comment by Prodigy on August 2, 2009 at 3:15 am

   Rapper: Notorious B.I.G.
   Song: Suicidal Thoughts

   When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell
   Cause Im a piece of shit, it aint hard to fuckin tell
   It dont make sense, goin to heaven wit the goodie-goodies
   Dressed in white, I like black tims and black hoodies
   God will probably have me on some real strict shit
   No sleepin all day, no gettin my dick licked
   Hangin with the goodie-goodies loungin in paradise
   Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
   All my life I been considered as the worst
   Lyin to my mother, even stealin out her purse
   Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
   I know my mother wished she got a fuckin abortion
   She dont even love me like she did when I was younger
   Suckin on her chest just to stop my fuckin hunger
   I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
   Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
   My babies mothers 8 months, her little sisters 2
   Whos to blame for both of them (naw nigga, not you)
   I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullshit
   Throw the magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
   And squeeze, until the beds, completely red
   Im glad Im dead, a worthless fuckin buddah head
   The stress is buildin up, I cant,
   I cant believe suicides on my fuckin mind
   I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin callin me
   Naw you wouldnt understand (nigga, talk to me please)
   You see its kinda like the crack did to pookie, in new jack
   Except when I cross over, there aint no comin back
   Should I die on the train track, like remo in beatstreet
   People at the funeral frontin like they miss me
   My baby momma kissed me but she glad Im gone
   She knew me and her sista had somethin goin on
   I reach my peak, I cant speak,
   Call my nigga chic, tell him that my will is weak.
   Im sick of niggas lyin, Im sick of bitches hawkin,
   Matter of fact, Im sick of talkin.

5. 

   Comment by Tye on August 2, 2009 at 3:15 am

   Immortal technique - dance with the devil

   the word play is just ridiculous.
   [Verse 1]
   I once knew a nigga whose real name was William
   his primary concern, was making a million
   being the illest hustler, that the world ever seen
   he used to fuck movie stars and sniff coke in his dreams
   a corrupted young mind, at the age of thirteen
   nigga never had a father and his mom was a fiend
   she put the pipe down, but for every year she was sober
   her sons heart simultaneously grew colder
   he started hanging out selling bags in the projects
   checking the young chicks, looking for hit and run prospects
   he was fascinated by material objects
   but he understood money never bought respect
   he built a reputation cause he could hustle and steal
   but got locked once and didn’t hesitate to squeal
   so criminals he chilled with didn’t think he was real
   you see me and niggas like this have never been equal
   I dont project my insecurities on other people
   he fiended for props like addicts with pipes and needles
   so he felt he had to prove to everyone he was evil
   a feeble minded young man with infinite potential
   the product of a ghetto bred capitalistic mental
   coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed
   dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes would bleed
   but he was sick of selling trees and gave in to his greed

   [Hook]
   Everyone trying to be trife never face the consequences
   you propably only did a month for minor offences
   ask a nigga doing life if he had another chance
   but then again there’s always the wicked that knew in advance
   dance forever with the devil on a cold cell block
   but thats what happens when you rape, murder and sell rock
   devils used to be gods, angels that fell from the top
   there’s no diversity because we’re burning in the melting pot

   [Verse 2]
   So Billy started robbing niggaz, anything he could do
   to get his respect back, in the eyes of his crew
   starting fights over little shit, up on the block
   stepped up to selling mothers and brothers the crack rock
   working overtime for making money for the crack spot
   hit the jackpot and wanted to move up to cocaine
   fulfilling the scarface fantasy stuck in his brain
   tired of the block niggaz treating him the same
   he wanted to be major like the cut throats and the thugs
   but when he tried to step to ‘em, niggaz showed him no love
   they told him any motherfucking coward can sell drugs
   any bitch nigga with a gun can bust slugs
   any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood
   even Puffy smoked a motherfucker up in the club
   but only a real thug can stab someone till they die
   standing in front of them, staring straight into their eyes
   Billy realized that these men were well guarded
   and they wanted to test him, before business started
   suggested raping a bitch to prove he was cold hearted
   so now he had a choice between going back to his life
   or making money with made men, up in the cife
   his dreams about cars and ice, made him agree
   a hardcore nigga is all he ever wanted to be
   and so he met them friday night at a quarter to three

   [Hook]

   [Verse 3]
   They drove around the projects slow while it was raining
   smoking blunts, drinking and joking for entertainment
   until they saw a woman on the street walking alone
   three in the morning, coming back from work, on her way home
   and so they quietly got out the car and followed her
   walking through the projects, the darkness swallowed her
   they wrapped her shirt around her head and knocked her onto the floor
   "this is it kid, now you got your chance to be raw…"
   so Billy yoked her up and grabbed the chick by the hair
   and dragged her into a lobby that had nobody there
   she struggled hard but they forced her to go up the stairs
   they got to the roof and then held her down on the ground
   screaming shut the fuck up and stop moving around
   the shirt covered her face, but she screamed and clawed
   so Billy stomped on the bitch, until he broken her jaw
   the dirty bastards knew exactly what they were doing
   they kicked her until they cracked her ribs and she stopped moving
   blood leaking through the cloth, she cried silently
   and then they all proceeded to rape her violently
   Billy was meant to go first, but each of them took a turn
   ripping her up, and choking her until her throat burned
   her broken jaw mumbled for God but they weren’t concerned
   when they were done and she was lying bloody, broken and bruised
   one of them niggaz pulled out a brand new .22
   they told him that she was a witness of what she’d gone through
   and if he killed her he was guaranteed a spot in the crew
   he thought about it for a minute, she was practically dead
   and so he leaned over and put the gun right to her head

   (Sample from "Survival of the Fittest" by Mobb Deep)
   I’m falling and I can’t turn back
   I’m falling and I can’t turn back

   [Verse 4]
   Right before he pulled the trigger, and ended her life
   he thought