From about 1987-1992, O’Shea Jackson was near the top of the emceeing game. While his name doesn’t necessarily come up in the same conversation as Rakim, Kane, and KRS-One, he definitely deserves to be in the conversation. Look at his body of work during that time: He was the principal writer in NWA (with a big help-out from the DOC, I think), then he put out two classic solo albums, with a dope, dope EP in between. Then came The Predator which, while not classic, was still pretty good. As with Outkast, it’s hard to put an order on this, so we’ll just pull up 15.
A Bitch Iz A Bitch – This song represented the first time I’d heard a woman really cuss hard on a record. I was actually quite shocked. That aside, ABIAB was the prototype of what I once called the “definition” record. Where some records have misogynistic content based on the actions of the characters in the songs, this one and others of its ilk try to distinguish what makes a woman a bitch. The ad-libs are pretty good too.
Straight Outta Compton (extended mix) – I just like the extended version better. Straight Outta Compton was the joint. Period. That’s all.
I Ain’t Tha 1 – The companion song to ABIAB, only with more radio-friendly lyrics. One of my more frequently-used phrases, ’spell girl with a B’ comes from this record. Oh, and the classic, ‘they get mad when I put it in perspective/ but let’s see if my knowledge is effective.’ That’s a GREAT line. Oh, and the other killer, ‘I’ll tell a girl in a minute, yo: I drive a bucket.’
Natural Born Killaz – If Cube and Dre were only gonna have one post-NWA song, I’m glad this was it. This was back during the era when we knew Cube was starting to slip, but it was like being with Dre returned him to his prime. Even though the song was as nihilistic as it wanted to be, it was hot fire. I can still remember the first time I heard it. I almost jumped out the car.
It Was A Good Day (remix) – It Was A Good Day was already a great song, but using “Let’s Do It Again” as the backing track put it over the top. Way over the top. In a way, Cube’s opening lines to the song, “Just wakin up in the morning, gotta thank God” seem to go with the track even more than the lyrics of the original song.
Jackin’ For Beats – The St. Ides commercial got my attention first, but this joint was ridiculous. Ice Cube rapping over other artists’ tracks was pure genius. He crushed it. In a way, it was like he pre-dated what The Roots and The Fugees would do later, performing other groups’ songs. He performed his song on their beats. And again with the line, “But I don’t party and shake my butt / I leave that to the brothers with the funny haircuts.”
A Bird In The Hand – Cube was good about writing about things from the everyman perspective, and A Bird In The Hand was an excellent example of that. While I don’t now, and didn’t then, think the character was as stuck as he seemed to think, I thought it explained the situation very well.
The Product – Speaking of which, if I was going to use a song that illustrated exactly what I thought early Ice Cube was about as an emcee, this would probably be it. This was Cube at his everyman finest. Telling the story of a young man from conception to incarceration, it sounds like something everybody can get next to. Particularly ironic is the tone of the song and the fact that the sample driving the song is “You Can Make It If You Try” by Sly & the Family Stone.
Once Upon A Time In The Projects – Cube’s storytelling is on display here. What impresses me so much about this record is his attention to detail. The unstable couch, the messed up black and white TV, the child with the runny nose and stinky drawls…this song doesn’t even need a video. You can see it exactly as it is.
Dopeman (remix) – Come on.
Fuck Tha Police – Among the whole crew, Cube’s verse stands way out because it puts the whole question of police brutality into a larger context. While Ren and Eazy are primarily focused on the “I’m-so-bad” element, Cube actually spends a couple lines looking at it from a systemic perspective fuck the police comin straight from the underground / a young nigga got it bad cuz I’m brown / and not the other color, some police think / they have the authority to kill a minority That pretty much summed it up for a lot of us, especially in the early 90’s.
Dead Homiez – Was this hip-hop’s first elegy? Whether it was or not, one of the lines that has stuck with me for the last 19 years is I look at this shit and I think to myself / and gotta thank God for my health / cuz nobody really ever know / when it’s gonna be they family on the front row / so I take everything slow / go with the flow/ and shut my motherfuckin mouth if I don’t know…” Those are some words to live by.
What They Hittin’ Foe – Again with Cube as everyman, but this time, he deliberately casts himself in that role. “Fuckin around in a crap game, niggas think I’m soft / cuz now I’m in the rap game and I don’t / hang out as much / bang out dope cuts / standin on stage and I’m grabbin my nuts/
No Vaseline – For my money, this is still the king of the dis tracks. Nowadays, people say so-and-so got “ethered,” referring to Nas’ track about Jay, but neither Ether nor Hit Em Up nor any of the 10000 other dis tracks that have been recorded are really fooling with No Vaseline. Cube straight eviscerated NWA on this track. And then he had the nerve to go and be right? It was crazy.
Parental Discretion Iz Advised / The Grand Finale – I count these two together because they’re kinda like the bookends of the full NWA team, with DOC actually rapping on the tracks instead of just writing for Eazy or Dre. As good as Ren and DOC came off on these tracks, Cube showed why he was that man. On The Grand Finale, he actually busts out one of the greatest forced rhymes I’ve ever heard, bordering on lyrical impressionism: “because I’m gone, you say I left you all/ but I stay in your ass like cho-les-tre-ol”
Is this my favorite Biggie verse? Could be. It’s debatable. But this is definitely top 3.
Warning.
Who the fuck is this? Pagin me at 5:46
in the mornin, crack of dawn an’ {*dialing phone*}
now I’m yawnin – wipe the cold out my eye {*ring*}
See who’s this pagin me – and why
It’s my nigga Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gamblin spot, and heard the intricate plot
of niggaz wanna stick me like flypaper neighbor
Slow down love, please chill, drop the caper
Remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville?
That you rolled dice wit, smoked the blunts and got nice wit
Yeah my nigga Fame up in Prospect
Nah they’re my niggaz nah love wouldn’t disrespect
I didn’t say them, they schooled me to some niggaz
that you knew from back when, when you was clockin minor figures
Now they heard you blowin up like nitro
And they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow
So – thank Fame for warnin me cause now I’m warnin you
I got the mac nigga tell me what you gonna do
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper
They heard about the Rolex’s and the Lexus
with the Texas license plates outta state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
And they heard you got half of Virginia locked down
They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in Florida
The fifth corridor –
– call the coroner!
There’s gonna be a lot of slow singin, and flower bringin
if my burgular alarm starts ringin
Whatcha 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, tryin to drop my decimals
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick my for my cream
And it ain’t a dream, things ain’t always what it seem
It’s the ones that smoke blunts witcha, see your picture
Now they wanna grab the guns and come and getcha
Betcha 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 prediciment, where all the foul niggaz went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Fuck what I’ma hit you with you motherfuckers betta 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 ya rasshole
I fuck around and get hardcore
C-4 to ya 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 gunnin, nigga I bust my gun an’
hold on, I hear somebody comin…
While The Message is probably the song for which Melle Mel is best known, I don’t think that’s anywhere near his best verse. In his second verse on Beat Street, Mel basically blacked out. If I had to point to one verse that I would say was nearly perfect in all categories, this would be it. The only thing anybody could possibly hold against this song is that it’s in the old-style rhyme pattern, before there was really any such thing as “flow.” But given the fact that Melle Mel basically invented that pattern, you really can’t hate on that either. The DC-3 may not have been the Concorde, but in its day, it was still the coldest thing out. Same here. There may have been songs that were more famous, and perhaps taken more seriously since they weren’t attached to a movie, but make no mistake: Mel CRUSHED this joint.
A newspaper burns in the sand
And the headlines say ‘Man Destroys Man’
Extra extra, read all the bad news
On the war for peace that everybody would lose
The rise and fall, the last great empire
The sound of the whole world caught on fire
The ruthless struggle, the desperate gamble
The game that left the whole world in shambles
The cheats, the lies, the alibies
And the foolish attempts to conquer the sky
Lost in space, and what is it worth?
Huh, the President just forgot about Earth
Spendin multi-billions and maybe even trillions
The cost of weapons ran in the zillions
There’s gold in the street and there’s diamond under feet
And the children in Africa don’t even eat
Flies on their faces, they’re livin like mice
And their houses even make the ghetto look nice
Huh, the water tastes funny, it’s forever too sunny
And they work all month and don’t make no money
A fight for power, a nuclear shower
A people shout out in the darkest hour
Sights unseen and voices unheard
And finally the bomb gets the last word
Christians killed Muslims and Germans killed Jews
And everybody’s bodies are used and abused
Huh, minds are poisoned and souls are polluted
Superiority complex is deep rooted
Leeches and lices, and people got prices
Egomaniacs control the self-righteous
Nothin is sacred and nothin is pure
So the revelation of death is our cure
Hitler and Caesar, President Reagan,
Napoleon, Castro, Mussolini, and Begin
Ghengis Khan and the Shah of Iran
Men spill the blood of the weaker man
Peoples in terror, the leaders made a error
And now they can’t even look in the mirror
Cause we gotta suffer while things get rougher
And that’s the reason why we got to get tougher
So learn from the past and work for the future
And don’t be a slave to no computer
Cause the children of Man inherit the land
And the future of the world is in your hands
So just throw your hands in the air
And wave em like you just don’t care
And if you believe that you’re the future
Scream it out and say oh yeah (Oh yeah)
Oh yeah (Oh yeah)
Rrrrhaa!
I may have posted this one before, but even if I did, it’s worth two posts. In fact, I’ll more than likely be posting another verse from this song, because it was just that good. At any rate, as I’ve said before, there is a classic Wu-Tang formula, in terms of order. Invariably, it’s Inspectah Deck on the lead off, with GZA cleaning up. Deck’s verse on Guillotine (Swordz) is, quite frankly, magnificent.
Poisonous paragraphs, smash ya phonograph
in half, it be the Inspectah Deck on the warpath
First class leavin mics with a cast
Causin ruckus like the aftermath when guns blast
Run fast, here comes the verbal assaulter
Rhymes runnin 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 best is I, Rebel INS
Ya highness, blessed to electrify
with voltage of an eel, truth that I reveal’ll
crush the amateurs who screamed they keep it real
Caesar black down hoodied up and 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
The bol, Blackink got me siced up on 4th Chamber last week, so I’ve been listening to it a lot. In the process, I’ve been listening to GZA’s verse. One of those times, the thought literally popped into my mind, I feel sorry for people who don’t like hip-hop. GZA’s verse is that good. Sickening, actually. That “disciplinary action…” line, that’s one of those ‘I-remember-where-I-was-when-I-heard’ moments.
The banks of G, all CREAM downs a bet
Money feed good, opposites off the set
It ain’t hard to see, my seeds need God-degree
I got mouths to feed, unnecessary beef is more cows to breed
I’m on some tax free shit by any means
Whether bound to hit scheme or some counterfeit CREAM
I learned much from such with cons who run scams
Veterans got the game spiced like ham
And from that, sons are born and guns are drawn
Clips are fully loaded, and then blood floods the lawn
Disciplinary action was a fraction of strength
that made me truncate the length one-tenth
With his thump, tweeters hits like air pumps
RZA shaped the track, niggaz caught razor bumps
Scarred tryin to figure who invented
this unprecented, opium-scented, dark-tinted
Now watch me blow him out his shoes without clues
Cuz I won’t hesitate to detonate, I’m short fuse
MC Ren has long been one of my favorite emcees, and stays near the top of my All-Underrated list. He was good on most of the things I’ve heard, but he had one verse that just crushed everything I’d heard from him: his verse on CPO’s Ballad of a Menace. The funny thing about it is, the thing I remember most about this verse is when I was watching the video and my mom came by talmbout, “Talkin’ about how bad he is…bad-lookin’, that’s about it!
This is the ballad of a menace
Ren will finish and diminish
All the suckers that thought they could flow like me that was in this
Society wishes for my death or my downfall
But they playin theyself as if they playin some roundball
Cuz I’m terrorizing the territory I’m steppin’ on
Endangerin’ citizens when I’m keepin my weapon on
I hit like a psycho cuz to me it was pitiful
I just got word the Ruthless Villain was critical
Let’s get it straight: the ones that want some can come with that
Illiterate motherfuckers, I’ll make you look dumb with that
Stumble and fumble cuz I’ma crush til you crumble
So you can stutter and stutter but keep it down to a mumble
MC Ren is never taken as a sucker
In other words, I’m a bad motherfucker!
So next time I walk your street you should know
To lock your door and close your windows
And if you was thinkin that protection could stop me
It takes a continent fulla niggas to drop me
And for me to be vicious, yo, it’s valid
While I’m producing and conductin the ballad of a motha-fuckin menace!
Unlike most of the ones so far, this one’s not so much about the lyricism of the verse. In fact, it’s not at all about the lyricism of the verse, because there’s not much if there’s any at all. Rather, this time, it’s about the sheer ‘OOMPH’ of it. Whenever I used to make a running tape, which I did several times a year back in the day, this was usually the last song on each side, so I would finish up with a good sprint. As a song for a workout tape, I don’t know that there’s much better than Approach to Danger, and as a terminal verse for this song, I don’t know that anything could top Eazy-E’s delivery here. It’s like it’s tailor-made for sprinting. Even the last line of the verse is perfect as a cold stop. It worked especially well for me since I did most of my running in the city, and I always tried to time it so that I’d finish my sprint at the end of a block.
Obviously, Dr. Dre’s production is significant, but this song is really about the synergy between the production and the voices, moreso than lots of songs. If you change either, I don’t think it would be anywhere near the dope running song that it was for me.
Final approach to danger, death, destruction around every corner
Another dead body and you wanna keep runnin
But even the rain turns black
All you can do is stay alert and try to stay out of the searchlight
No prison, nobody makes bail
Everybody gotta go but see it ain’t no jail
Think about death, takin your last breath
Heart beatin like a motherfucker like it ain’t no time left
With so many ways to stay up, I gotta get mine
Even though they wanna make a crime, yo
of bein real, a federal letter in the beginnin
Because of the release of “Fuck the Police”
Fuck it I approach the danger
Cause I don’t give a fuck if somebody gotta get fucked up
So you might as well kiss your ass goodbye
Cause in the long run (”we all die”)
Everybody knows Posdnuos is one of my two favorite emcees. (The other is Redman.) But that don’t mean that Dave, nee Trugoy, is slackin. Don’t get it twisted, Dave is nice with his too. To wit, check this week’s entry in the favorite verses, from the song, Go Out And Get It
It’s eighty-six y’all, put your rap on pause
More milk on the mic than them pregnant broads
Nine times out the dime it’s a penny on the floor
Same penny you walk around and ignore
See I’m the penny that’ll have the deal closed
Turn that point nine nine into one point oh’s
A millisecond you’ll be needin in the race
That photo finish I ain’t even see your face
I’m that one degree that made the Pisa lean
The one goal, one job, one aim and one team
That one good push that gave birth to your dream
That one good year, that one good beer
See you can hit the lotto with hope and a buck
But with 99 cents yo’ ass is outta luck
Once upon a time, it’s not once it ain’t happen
One pop in the air does not mean you clappin
One rap hit does not mean you be rappin
Although you bust rhymes, you ain’t kill it ONE TIME~!
Never was to be in the first, just the second one
If you don’t find me with mic, I’m mic checkin one
One good pinch, and one good hunch
That’s just one bad apple out the New York bunch
Got ones, but I want 2’s 3’s and 4’s
I’m that one when you got one more
My daughter was up last weekend, and I introduced her to many songs, one of which she actually liked. Now, I think her liking it has a lot to do with the fact that I like it so much, but what also helped is that we started working on memorizing it. The tongue twister in the middle of the highlighted verse helped to keep her interested. So without further ado, Dinco D’s verse from Scenario.
(True blue!) Scooby Doo, whoopie doo
Scenario’s ready yo, rates more than four
Scores for the smores that smother dance floors
Now I go for mine, shades of sea-shore
Ship-shape crush Grape Apes that play tapes
Papes make drakes baked for the wakes
of an L-AH, an E-ADER, simply just a leader
Bass innerspace means peace see ya later
Later? (LATER!) Later alligator
Pop blows the weasel and the herb’s the inflater
So yo the D what the O, incorporated I-N-C into a flow
Funk flipped flat back first this foul fight fight fight
Laugh yo, how’d that sound? (ohhhhhh!)
According to some of my kids, Weezy is the best rapper out right now. I’ll concede that he has some pretty decent lyrics, but he raps like he’s constipated. Not constipated with rhymes, just constipated. That’s a minor drawback for me. Comparing him, then, to Ice Cube, well, there is no comparison. Cube had the lyrics, the delivery, and the voice. Especially the voice. As one friend said to me, you could already hear the actor. On no song is this more evident than Once Upon A Time In The Projects. Far from just being a song, this could practically be a skit on a comedy show. The only thing that separates this from a Niggas Bleed-level of excellence is that this doesn’t have the hook at the end that just totally blows me out. The eye for detail here, though, is magnificent.
Once upon a time in the projects, yo
I damn near had to wreck a ho
I knocked on the door – “Who is it?”
It’s Ice Cube, come to pay a little visit to ya
And what’s up with the niggers in the parking lot
She said fuck em, cause they get sparked alot
I sat on the couch but it wasn’t stable
and then I put my Nikes on the coffee table
Her brother walked in he’s into gangbangin
cause he walked up and said “what set you claimin”
I don’t bang I write the good rhymes
The whole scenery reminded me of Good Times
I hate to feel bad but I’m in a rut
by a young nigga that needs to pull his pants up
Her mother came in with a joint in her mouth
and fired up the sess it was sess no doubt
She said please excuse my house and all that
I said yeah cause I was buzzed from the contact
Lookin at a fucked up black and white
her mom’s bitchin cause the county check wasn’t right
She had another brother that was three years old
and had a bad case of the runny nose
He asked me who I was then I had to pause
It smelled like he took a shit in his little drawers
I saw her sister that needs get her ass kicked
only thirteen and already pregnant
I grabbed the forty out the bag and took a swig
cause I was getting overwhelmed by BeBe Kids
They were runnin and playin and cursin and yellin
and tellin and look at this young punk bailin
I heard a knock on the door without the password
and her mom’s got the 12 guage Mossberg
The nigga said “yo, what’s for sale”
and the bitch came out with a bag of ya-yo
She made the drop and got the 20 dollars
from a smoked out fool with ring around the collar
The girl I was waiting for came out
I said BITCH I DIDN’T KNOW THIS WAS A CRACK HOUSE
I got my coat and SUDDENLY …
(police breaking into house annoucing themselves)
The cop busted in and had a Mac-10 pointed to my dome
and I said to myself once again it’s on
He threw me on the carpet no slap jumped back
stomped on my head and put his knee in my back
First he tried to wrap me up, slap me up, rough me up
They couldn’t do it so they cuffed me up
I said FUCK how much abuse can a nigga take
Hey yo officer you’re making a big mistake
Since I had on a shirt that said I was dope
He thought I was selling base and couldn’t hear my case
He said get out my face I musta had a grudge
His reply tell that bullshit to the judge
The girl I was with wasn’t sayin nothin
I said AIYYO BITCH you better tell em SOMETHIN
She started draggin and all of a sudden
we all got tossed in the patty wagon
Now I beat the rap but that ain’t the point
I had a warrant so I spent 2 weeks in the joint
Now the story you heard has one little object
DON’T FUCK WITH A BITCH FROM THE PROJECTS!
From about 1987-1992, O’Shea Jackson was near the top of the emceeing game. While his name doesn’t necessarily come up in the same conversation as Rakim, Kane, and KRS-One, he definitely deserves to be in the conversation. Look at his body of work during that time: He was the principal writer in NWA (with a big help-out from the DOC, I think), then he put out two classic solo albums, with a dope, dope EP in between. Then came The Predator which, while not classic, was still pretty good. As with Outkast, it’s hard to put an order on this, so we’ll just pull up 15.