A few of my favourite verses

André 3000

Elevators (Me & You)

ATLiens

Got stopped at the mall the other day

Heard a call from the other way that I just came from

Some nigga was saying something, talking 'bout smoke something "Hey man, you remember me from school?" "No not really"

But he kept smiling like a clown, facial expression looking silly

And he kept asking me, "What kinda car you drive?

I know you paid, I know y'all got beaucoup of hoes

From all them songs that y'all done made"

And I replied that I had been going through the same things that he had

True, I've got more fans than the average man

But not enough loot to last me to the end of the week

I live by the beat like you live check-to-check

If it don't move your feet then I don't eat so we like neck-to-neck

Yes, we done come a long way like them slim-ass cigarettes

From Virginia, this ain't gon' stop, so we just gon' continue

Danny Brown

DNA

XXX

Warhols all on the wall of the villa

Adderall popping got me jumping to ceiling

Perceived as a villian no sentiment in my sentence

For instance in instants they'll be calling forensics

If incidents occur remember these ain't just words

Go from talking shit to organs preserved

You soft serve rappers just hide behind your reverb

And even without effects you'll end up dessert

I research and homework, make you dig ya own dirt

On beats buried alive, ratting wiseguys

I'm with a latin bitch, fat ass, well porportioned thighs

And love to see it cumming so I squirt it in her eyes

I'm hopping out that new shit like narcs on Tuesday

The grill on it shiny like LL Cool J's

What's on my waist could make a nigga meet ya doomsday

To describe ya mixtape that shit was like a toothache

Big Pun

You Ain't a Killer

Capital Punishment

It's hard to analyze which guys are spies; be advised, people

We recognize who lies, it's all in the eyes, chico

We read 'em and see 'em for what they are

D's in undercover cars

Takin' my picture like I'm a fuckin' star

I'm up to par, my game is in a smash

With half a million in the stash

Passport with the gats, first name and last

Ask anybody if my men are rowdy

Give me the mini-shottie

I'll body a nigga for a penny probably

I'm obligated to anything if it's crime-related

If it shine, I'll take it; still in my prime and I finally made it

I hate the fact that I'm the last edition

Properly a stats magician

Could've went to college and been a mathematician

Bad decisions kept me out the game

Now I'm strictly out for cream

Doin' things to fiends I doubt you'll ever dream

My team's the meanest thing you ever seen

Measured by the Heaven's kings

Down to the Devil's mezzanine

I've never screamed so loud, I'm proud to be alive

Most heads die by 25 or catch a quick three-to-five

So be advised: the street's full of surprises

It's not what crew's the livest

One that survive, it's who's the wisest

AZ

Life's a Bitch

Illmatic

Visualizin' 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 Five Percenters

But somethin' must've got in us, 'cause all of us turned to sinners

Now some restin' in peace and some are sittin' in San Quentin

Others, such as myself, are tryin' to carry on tradition

Keepin' 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 leavin' thievin'

We'll be leavin' with some kind of dough

So, until that day we expire and turn to vapors

Me and my capers will be somewhere stackin' plenty papers

Keepin' it real, packin' steel, gettin' high

'Cause life's a bitch and then you die

DOOM

Beef Rap

Mm Food

What up?

To all rappers: shut up with your shutting up

And keep your shirt on, at least a button-up

Yuck, is they rhymers or strippin' males?

Out of work jerks since they shut down Chippendales

They chippin' nails, DOOM, tippin' scales

Let alone the pre-orders that's counted off shippin' sales

This one goes out to all my peoples skippin' bail

Dippin' jail, whippin' tail and sippin' ale

Light the doobie 'til it glow like a ruby

After which they couldn't find the Villain like Scooby

He's in the lab on some old Buddha Monk shit

Overproof drunk shit, but who'd'a thunk it?

Punk, try and ask why ours be better

Could be the iron mask or the Cosby sweater

Yes, you, who's screwed by the dude on the CD, nude

DOOM

America's Most Blunted

Madvillainy

Quas, when he really hit star mode

Never will he boost loose Phillies with the bar-code

Or take a whole carload on a wasted trip

Or sit White Owl laced tip from tip with yip

Some rather baggies others like their cracks in vials

Catch a tag, roll a bag of schwag in a Black & Mild

He twist Optimo, just the raw leaf part

The list top go: bust before beef start

At the Stop-n-Go Mart, actin like a spirit host done it

"America's most blunted!"

Yeah, yo

DOOM nominated for the best rolled L's

And they wondered how he dealt with stress so well

Wild guess? You could say he stay sedated

Some say buddha-ed, some say faded

Someday pray that he will grow a farm barn full

Recent research show it's not so darn harmful (true)

Sometimes you might need to detox

It can help you with your rhyme flow and your beat-box

Off spite to your surprise

Turn a Newport Light to a joint right before your eyes

Tear a page out the good book, hear it how you want it

GZA

Living In The World Today

Liquid Swords

My rhyme gross weight vehicle combination

Was too heavy for the Chevy's, is chased out the station

Double-edged was the guillotine that beheaded it

Gassed up, fuckin' with some regular unleaded shit

Heads roll on hillsides behind ropes that

Bind-in, X marks the spot on the scope

Heavily armed, military is necessary, it's a gamble

MCs bet they best at every

Powerful parable ditties might harm

If tampered with, set off and strike like pipe bombs

Flashbacks to the "Duel of the Iron Mic"

Look out for these fatal flying spikes, of massive

Sleep-holds, put strangle on commercial angle

Microphone cords tangled from being Star Spangled

Now, who could ever say they heard of this?

My motherfuckin' style is mad murderous

Earl Sweatshirt

WIND IN MY SAILS

Wind in my sails

My whole disposition like fuck who told me to sit

Ten toes on the cement, lil weed in my socks

Send dudes songs to repent, clean up my thoughts

We in a box, see a lot of niggas talk on the bench

A lotta father figures followin' trends, I ain't involved with 'em

Lemmings like to fall off of cliffs and bring they squad with 'em

I seen God in the mirror drinking, I tee off when the spirit hit me

And I don't fear the ending, I feel the envy

I listen to my past when it whisper to me

Half of it makes sense, my nigga half of it riddles to me

Moses with a makeshift staff sending ripples through ya

And through the land, and the river been a plan

But when I go to grab it, it slither out my hand

So on my other hand, I been handling business

Kinda shabby but my momma told me "Man up, my nigga"

And now I'm Popeye with the anchor tats and the spinach

Finna spazz on a nigga if I have to

Risk takers know Satan knew dance moves

It could be your last move

Hard to see the glass half full, when you don't have food

Wrist dangling like black fruit, nigga

R.A. The Rugged Man

Uncommon Valor: A Vietnam Story

Servants in Heaven, Kings in Hell

Call me Thorburn, John A., staff sergeant

Marksman, skilled in killin', illin', I'm able and willin'

Kill a village elephant, rapin' and pillage a village

Illegitimate killers, U.S. Military guerrillas

This ain't no real war, Vietnam shit

World War II, that's a war, this is just a military conflict

Soothin' drug abusin', Vietnamese women screwin'

Sex, gamblin' and boozin' — all this shit is amusin'

Bitches and guns, this is every man's dream

I don't wanna go home where I'm just an ordinary human being

Special Op, Huey chopper gun ship, run shit

Gook run when the minigun spit, won't miss

Kill shit, spit four-thousand bullets a minute

Victor Charlie, hair-trigger, hit it, I'm in it to win it

Get it, the lieutenant hinted, the villain, I been it

The killin', I did it, cripple, did it

Pictures I painted is vivid, live it

A wizard with weapons: the secret mission, we 'bout to begin it

Government funded, behind enemy lines

Bullets is sprayin', it's heatin' up a hundred degrees

The enemy's the North Vietnamese, bitch please!

Ain't no sweat, I'm told be at ease

Until I see the pilot got hit, and we 'bout to hit some trees

Tail rotor broke, crash land

American man in Cambodia, right in the enemy hand

Take a swig of the Whiskey to calm us

Them yellow men wearin' black pajamas

They wanna harm us, they all up on us

Bang bang, bullet hit my chest, feel no pain

To my left, the Captain caught a bullet right in his brain

Body parts flyin', loss of limbs, explosions

Bad intentions, I see my best friend's intestines

Pray to the one above, it's rainin', I'm covered in mud

I think I'm dyin', I feel dizzy, I'm losin' blood

I see my childhood, I'm back in the arms of my mother

I see my whole life, I see Christ, I see bright lights

I see Israelites, Muslims and Christians at peace, no fights

Black, Whites, Asians, people of all types

I must've died, then I woke up, surprised I'm alive

I'm in a hospital bed, they rescued me, I survived

I escaped the war, came back

But ain't escape Agent Orange: two of my kids born handicapped

Spastic, quadriplegia, micro cephalic

Cerebral palsy, cortical blindness — name it, they had it

My son died, he ain't live

But I still try to think positive, ‘cause in life, God take, God give

© Luke Boyle 93' til infinitySitemap