Tuesday, April 24, 2007

My 25 Favorite Hip Hop Albums.

Don't know if Straight Bangin' is still tallying numbers, but here's mine anyway. If this was supposed to be a list of the best, then it'd be completely different. But these are my favorites. For now...


"I'm just tryin' to do the opposite of left, as long as there's the opposite of death. You test and I just might bring the opposite of life, until there's no one the opposite of right."


"I lack the necessary tools to help me get right. So take your place as the temporary savior, while I'm lookin' at your face like I'll be tested on it later. I bet you like to fuck, but you love to argue. Poke a hole into my chest and pull my heart through, up to my room for cigarettes and cartoons. Or we can sit right here and try to guard these barstools. I'll take you any way that I can have you. Bring along your ethics, and your issues, and your taboos...."


"Lemonade was a popular drink and it still is. I get more props and stunts than Bruce Willis."


"I'm better than your favorite rapper, but it don't take much these days for you to master the mic. Most of these rappers, trapped in the hype. They makin' whole albums, but only half of it's tight. So they never really have an impact on your life. That's why 3:16 was genius..."


"Don't talk about my moms, yo."


"The American Dream, though it seems that it's obtainable, they're pullin' your sleeve, don't believe cause it'll strangle you..."


"Meanwhile, back in Queens-the realness, the foundation-if I die, I couldn't choose a better location. When the slugs penetrate, you feel a burnin' sensation. Gettin' closer to God, in a tight situation..."


"These cats drink champagne and toast death and pain, like slaves on a ship talkin' bout who got the flyest chain."


"Aw shit! Say Starkologist! Starksologist! Fried fish halibut!"


"Me without a lyric, is like a nigga without a beeper..."


"Olympic sponsor of the black glock, gold medalist in the back shot, from the soverign state of the have nots..."


"You need to be more aware of your surroundings. Reality at times is astounding enough to get your heart pounding. It's safe to assume, in all confidence, that I'm one of the illest on the seven continents. You on my dick? Thanks for the compliment. You'll be fucked up by my table of contents..."


"I find it's distressing, there's never no inbetween. We either niggas or kings, we either bitches or queens. This deadly ritual seems immersed in the peverse. Full of short attention spans, short tempers and short skirts. Long barrel automatics released in short bursts. The length of black life is treated with short worth. 'Get yours first. Them other niggas secondary' That type of illin' that be fillin' up the cemetery..."


"...and the crowd goes wild, as if Holyfield has just won the fight. When in actuality, it's only about 3AM, and three niggas done got hauled off in the ambulance. Two niggas done started bustin'. And one nigga done took his shirt off, talkin' bout, 'Now who else wanna fuck wit Hollywood Colt?'"


"....and even after all my logic and my theory, I add a 'muthafucka' so y'all i'gnant niggas hear me..."


"Nigga, I seen it. Like a 27 inch Zenith. Believe it."


"Even if it's jazz, or the quiet storm, I'll hook a beat up, convert it into hip hop form. Write a rhyme in graffitti and every show you see me in deep concentration, cause I'm no comedian..."


"This ain't a movie dog..."


"Whoever said illegal was the easy way out, didn't understand the mechanics and the workings of the underwold. Granted, 9 to 5 is how you survive. I 'aint tryin' to survive, I'm tryin' to live it to the limit and love it alot..."


"Dedicated to babies who came feet first!"


"I got techniques drippin' out my buttcheeks. Sleep on my stomach so I don't fuck up my sheets."


"Now the little shorties say it all of the time, and a whole bunch of niggas throw the word in they rhymes. Yo, I start to flinch, as I try not to say it..."




"Not no Parkay, not no margarine. Strictly butter."


"My ryhmin' is a vitamin, held without a capsule. The smooth criminal on beat breaks, never put me in your box if the shit eats tapes. The city never sleeps, full of villains and creeps, that's where I learned to do my hustle, had to scuffle with freaks. I'm a addict for sneakers, twenties of buddha and bitches with beepers. In the streets, I can greet ya, about blunts I'll teach ya. Inhale deep, like the words in my breath. I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death. I lay puzzled as I backtrack to earlier times, nothin's equivalent to the New York state of mind..."