Music is a lot more than words but sometimes the words just hit. Here are some that stick with me.

Jadakiss

New York, New York

I swear it couldn’t be sweeter, life’s a bitch
Depending on how you treat her, you might get rich
It’s guaranteed you gon’ die, you might get missed
For maybe two or three hours, ’til they light they spliffs
And that coke will get you a long time
But when I let ’em know the dope is out, it’s like America Online Wise has awoken, and you know they say that you deserved it Whenever you die with your eyes open I still hold the title, ‘cause I’m in the hood Like them little motorcycles Stick up kids hoppin’ out with them old rifles Just doing shit for nothin’, it’s so spiteful, ha, I’m just like you Word that niggas wanna merc you is in the air A double shot of ‘gac and the purple is in the air And I’m not cocky, I’m confident So when you tell me I’m the best it’s a compliment HA-HAAAEEH!

We’re Back

I got a wet haze, coke, and a p-blow block
But y’all still missin the point like a free throw shot
Get it? This ain’t some’n you learn, this is some and you earn

Turn it up and give me somethin’ to burn
That boy ‘Kiss is a hell of a man
Treat your life like a cell phone, so try to get a helluva plan
‘Cause most dudes left the hood broke
A couple knew what they was doin, so they came back like good coke
Down South they’ll tell you ‘Kiss is good folk (that’s right)
Up North I hit my niggas off with good smoke
Out West they ridin with me, now I’m back hard

I’m just worried bout the rats that’s in my back yard Hated by many, confronted by none I trust two guys, one’s God, and one is my gun Jada is the nice guy, ‘Kiss is the monster

D-Block and Double are is my sponsor

Who Shot Ya?

All praises, all burners, all razors
Hands down nigga the game is all Jada’s
Something hot drop I get ’em in all flavors
He’s a dick, you pussy y’all neighbors
Yeah, two extra whores
I’m in the new Aston with two extra doors
With a quick flip I don’t try to stretch for more
One hundred percent powder, extra raw
And I get it from Giuseppe, either him or the eses
I’ve been smacking these rappers around for a decade
Still tryin to get mami to sacame la leche
Know if I take her out I could pop her the next day
The Black Mamba of the vocals, MJ of the Pro Tools, anti-social
Phil Jack on the track but I can’t coach you
This is just audio of shit that I go through
Guns in the couch, money in the mattress
And I would have got the Bentley but I had to pay taxes
Settle for a polo fit and some air maxes
Your flows a light sprain, mines is a fracture
Uh, but the X-rays negative
You a coward, in jail you could never live
Nah, You barely living out here
Im the reason you breathing it’s like im giving out air
I got stocks in the block and im giving out shares
To niggas that don’t talk cause they giving out years
I don’t know you, you ain’t familiar
And I don’t care who shot you cause they ain’t kill ya’
As far as the word play, I’m a son of a bitch
These niggas is decent, but ain’t none of ’em Kiss
MTV y’all know, I’ll punish the list
Them niggas’ jewelry is fake and ain’t none of ’em rich
Notice they keep watching ’em, there’s no stoppin’ em
V neck, crush linen, suede louie moccasins
They won’t dry up but you can’t buy luck
Cashmere sweats with the gucci tie ups
Overlooking the city my nigga I’m high up
And I could get your brains blown out for five bucks
Im always in the hood, thats cause I rep that
My paperwork good niggas already checked that
Im probably just comfortable cause thats where I slept at
The desert is blue steel, The forty is jet black

Kanye West

Never Let Me Down

I get down for my grandfather who took my mama
Made her sit in that seat where white folks ain’t want us to eat
At the tender age of 6, she was arrested for the sit-ins
And with that in my blood I was born to be different
Now niggas can’t make it to ballots to choose leadership
But we can make it to Jacob’s and to the dealership
That’s why I hear new music and I just don’t be feelin’ it
Racism’s still alive, they just be concealin’ it
But I know they don’t want me in the damn club
They even made me show ID to get inside of Sam’s Club I done did dirt and went to church to get my hands scrubbed
Swear I’ve been baptized ’least three or four times
But in the land where niggas praise Yukons and getting paid
It’s gonna take a lot more than coupons to get us saved
Like it take a lot more than doo rags to get you waves
Nothing sad as that day my girl’s father passed away
So I promised to Mr. Rainey I’m gonna marry your daughter
And you know I gotta thank you for the way that she was brought up
And I know that you were smiling when you see the car I bought her
You sent tears from heaven when you seen my car get balled up
But I can’t complain what the accident did to my left eye
‘Cause look what an accident did to Left Eye
First Aaliyah now Romeo must die
I know I got angels watching me from the other side

Lil Wayne

6 Foot 7 Foot

Okay, I lost my mind, it’s somewhere out there stranded
I think you stand under me if you don’t understand me
Had my heart broken by this woman named Tammy
But hoes gon’ be hoes, so I couldn’t blame Tammy
Just talked to Moms, told her she the sweetest
I beat the beat up; call it self-defense
Swear, man, I be seein’ through these niggas like sequins
Niggas think they He-Men, pow, pow, the end
Talkin’ to myself because I am my own consultant
Married to the money, fuck the world; that’s adultery
You full of shit, you close your mouth and let yo’ ass talk
Young Money eatin’, all you haters do is add salt
Stop playin’, bitch, I got this game on deadbolt
Mind so sharp I fuck around and cut my head off
Real nigga all day and tomorrow
But these motherfuckers talkin’ crazy like they jaw broke
Glass half empty, half full, I’ll spill ya
Try me and run into a wall; outfielder
You know I’ma ball ’til they turn off the field lights
The fruits of my labor, I enjoy ’em while they still ripe
Bitch, stop playin’, I do it like a king do
If these niggas animals, then I’ma have a mink soon
Tell ’em bitches I say put my name on the wall
I speak the truth, but I guess that’s a foreign language to y’all
And I call it like I see it, and my glasses on
But most of y’all don’t get the picture ’less the flash is on
Satisfied with nothin’, you don’t know the half of it
Young Money, Cash Money
Paper chasin’, tell that paper, “Look, I’m right behind ya”
Bitch, real Gs move in silence like lasagna
People say I’m borderline crazy, sorta kinda
Woman of my dreams, I don’t sleep so I can’t find her
You niggas are gelatin, peanuts to an elephant
I got through that sentence like a subject and a predicate
Yeah, with a swag you would kill for
Money too strong; pockets on bodybuilder
Jumped in a wishin’ well, now wish me well
Tell ’em kiss my ass, call it kiss and tell

Lupe Fiasco

King Nas

Uh, killer friends, dope dealers concealing sins
Sin and swim in my trunk like jumps in deeper ends
We the gems, your daughter, we’ll teach her hymns
From the annals of crime channels that dismantle her wants for weaker men Send ’em back, a livin’, I’m feelin’ trapped
We know religion but brimmin’ with brilliant facts
So we map cast distorted role of a lady
With no control, let her go whole on a baby
I wanna see it all, never half asleep some niggas can’t see the walls
‘Cause of the masterpiece my data breach like hacker leaks
Delete the McAfees and slam the backdoors in back of me
Social engineer, peers stare at it, give a chat to me happily
Actually activated off accolades of my apogee
And act yakkity then deeply speak it back to me
Then move it further, we can have a junta or a jerga
I smurf it and spoof the server, reboot and produce a cursor

Mural

We’re all chemicals, vitamins and minerals
Vicodin with inner tubes, wrapped around the arm
To see the vein like a chicken on the barn
Top Cat chat, let’s begin another yarn
That’s flying saucer cheese, or is it chicken parm’?
But roosters don’t fly like boosters don’t buy
So what powers cowards to get them to the top
Just to fall asleep listening to Bach?
The ribbon in the sky is the ribbon that I drop
Dribbling the eye across the prism of a clock
That lacks meaning, but racks up stacks of fat reading
They catch Chief and wrapped up plants from trap dealings
Now what’s a coffin with a scratched ceiling?
And what’s the talking without the match feeling
That’s buried living, And cherry picking
Every lemon from your berry system
Then proceed with the pack feeding
When I was young I had visions of another world
Sneaking looks at the porn stash of my brother HurL
Incense smoke made vortices and other curls Casting calls from porn films and ad space for rubber girls
I like my pancakes cut in swirls
Moroccan moles and undercover squirrels
I like cartoons, southern cities with large moons
Faith healers, ex-female drug dealers and art booms
Apologize for my weird mix
What taste like hot dogs and tear drips
And looks like pantomime and clear bricks
And smells like shotguns and deer piss
They on their hunt, kind of salty that I’m going hard
First part of a party, that I throw in parts
One minute you’re playing pool, next minute you’re throwing darts
But that’s how you do with a party that you throw in bars
I run the Gambit like I’m throwing cards
From Popular Mechanics to overdosing heart/hard
Paint cold pictures like Nova Scotia landscapes
Nerd gang, make Mandelbrot sets when we handshake
A word game back up plan that can dam lakes
Backup the wordplay ain’t playing that the man’s states
Means I can still be the man if the dam breaks
And when demand brakes I’m reflectious, what they can’t face
My peers will still treat the mirror like it’s a fan base
The unfettered veteran, the eagle feathered man of medicine
That hovers above cities like weather men
Or maybe weather woman
Whatever better to tell ya weather comin’
I prefer girls to reign all over the world
And not rain like, rain man or rain like rain dance
Or rain like a slight chance of rain when it’s raining
Or rein like deer slaves to Santa Claus sleigh man
But Reign like Queens that reign over made man
And not Queen like Queen killer, rhapsody bohemian Queen
But Queen like white glove wave hand, and not wave hand, like it’s a heat wave
So you make a fan by waving your hand, I’m talking wave, like you saying, “Hey man!”
And not hay for horses, and hoarses is like you almost voiceless
You gotta treat your vocal chords like it’s a fortress
And treat every single one of your words like reinforcements
And especially when you’re recording
Cause that’s the portion that’s important
When I was reporting that I was poor, but now I’m more than (poor)
It’s still hooker heels on my sugar hills and sweet spots
Crying shames, make margarita rims from cheap tops
Deep plots, in floor to ceiling windows for my pee pots
A little scene, with the sickle swings, to make the wheat drop
And a hundred words, for them hummingbirds, that like to eavesdrop
And fan out like peacocks, with a parakeet that beat box
So the sun rise when the beat drop, and the sun dies when the beat stops…
Then it unties, then it relocks, then it relapse, then it detox
Then heat back like a heat pack on his knee caps of the weak spot
Cause he want what we got, like yeah
Then forge poetry, like a young ornery Morrissey
Then spit it to the golden locks thots, who like their porridge all watery
Not scorching nor sorbet-y
From the steel orbitings, sorcerer of sorcery
Coming down gorgeously, just like a Stacey Dash waterfall
A more torturing, a water-boarding Barbie doll
A river of women like a Brazilian Carnival
Swimming in feminine bikinis made out of Barbasol
Somebody give them the volleyballs
If you love her, don’t ever send her to Mally Mall’s
Homie, if she lonely she might end up in Macauly’s claws
Coming out the closet over goblets, down at Mardi Gras
The fame, champagne, walk of shame lobby call
My rap position was black condition and activism
Ammunition for abolition, missions attacking systems
But they not apt to listen, unless it’s dropping on Activision
Are we apps, or are we bodies filled with apparitions?
Operating applications, stuck inside an Apple prison
Chicken hackin’ download updates that lack religion
Or are we more…
…Than soil tainting, disloyal changelings
Preoccupied with boy and Goyle chasing, and foiling other’s royal saintings?
I sit back and watch the world through eye holes in my oil paintings
Uhhh! Ain’t nothin’ to it, but to do it
Unless you Virgin Mary, nothin’ do it but the truest
Believe all that, unless you Jewish
Life is not a dictionary, it’s a thesaurus
And I feel like a missionary, to a clitoris
The water bearer, heir of traditions, that I swear to never change
My chair position or conditions of my porridge
Submission for sedition against the religion of a chorus
Keep them golden weave thieves out the mothafuckin’ forest
As I perform a nerd storm, I prefer my pictures in word form
Bury the hatchet like how a bird born
As I paint cold pictures, like Kool-Aid facing condensation
Having conversations with flavorful combinations
Slave to my concentration, so that’s OJ da Juiceman, meets OJ with two hands
And two gloves, that’s too snug, to judge who was, who drew blood
And, Lupe look at all these toucans, in a cemetery full of tomahawks
Giving middle fingers to the pigeons doing somersaults
Road runners don’t fall off cliffs, they run across
Anomalies by the colony, flukes by the reservoir
Wildin’ pursuers end up as poofs, on the desert floor
Levitating youths, who know the truth of where the fountain hides
Buckaroo roof painting tunnels onto the mountain sides
A thousand parts, a pound of heart, an ounce of eyes
Announcing now, the doubt in mouth, pronounces out a count of lies
Chocula Counts by the count of five
Refrigerator roof, full of animals and monsters
Incinerator chutes and the manual for Contra
Assorted memories from my childhood
Absorbing energy from the wild woods
Electronic combat Konami sign contract
Chinese chalk killing cucarachas on contact
Chicago, spray gun aficionado
Efficient spitting bridging divisions isn’t Chicano
Who’s the Boss? If it isn’t Alyssa Milano
Dudikoff, ninja mission into the Congo
Polarize envy of the older guys
Black obi, shinobi hittin’ Kenno in the face with all my throwin’ knives
Sub-zero, Gaiden, hiding, Raiden in the pack as well
Sound village, Leaf village, wolf spirit, magic spells
Dodging Rain and catching hail
Faith seers need samurais to catch the L
Special research vessels made for catching whales
Filet-o-fish ships sea-shepherded peppered with extra sails
Rewrite history, liberty needs a better bell
Maybe harder irons and carbon fibers that never fail
Smarter science mixed with a odd alliance of fairy tale
Or maybe just a metal pail you hit with steel tools
To announce that you’ve had enough and dropping out of SEAL school
Just like trout jumping out their house to let their gills cool
Cuba-scuba couldn’t take the temperature of my skill pool
Yeah, I said it feels cool to kill fools
Slipping through the cracks like when you try to grill gruel
Techno Viking water bottle and not following pill rules
Will have you off the throttle when you should be modelin’ chill mood
Roller skater maker or are you just cobblin’ wheel shoes
Overweight taster of kings food that kills crews
Oblivious feather-weight baker who autographed cakes whenever his quill moves over your milieu
Simple as a Buddhist monk in a temple standing in some heel groove with the abbot, practising stillness
Real Steel til’ he realize his realness
Defeat Samsara, achieves nirvana and brilliance
Yeah!

Prisoner 1 & 2

Punching on the glass
Scared that some killer might fuck him in the ass
Staff getting rigid, wasn’t gon’ take away the visits
Segregate niggas by theyself and make ’em stay with it
Wicked, swung the shank around on a mop string
They had to pull him out the cell with a SWAT team
That’s a cop team
They sent hella cops to stop, the helicopteriiiing…
Man, he’d thought that he’d fly away
Like a kite, take flight, like a letter on a string
Like propellers on a wing (but the kite was the key)
They made electric chairs for his dying days
Last meals, no appeals for him to try and stay
On Death Row like Suge and the late Pac
Maybe he could dig a tunnel outta A Block
And wear gloves for the razor-wired gate top
Scared thugs going crazy in a caged box
Looking at the world through the TV
And they gone, rapping over beats from the tabletops
Ay! That’s how it is in a police state
When your life is just a number and release date
When you’re rehabilitated so correctly
And let’s hope that’s how you’re living when you’re set free

Malice

Cot Damn (Clipse)

Uh, they just can’t understand or fathom my demeanor
Unapproachable appearance to how I pack the ninas
Out of two Clipse, they say Malice the meanest
Got love for guns and caine, let nothin’ come between us
You mistook me for a rapper, huh?
Well that makes me an actor, cause I would rather clap a gun
And buck on them niggas who hate
Who wanna be in my shoes? Live my life but can’t carry my weight
I understand that the envy is part of the game
But make no mistake, you and I, we are not the same Naw bitch, I’m liable to splatter ya shit
Light up ya world ’til you start to stagger and shit
Watch how them hollows straight rattle ya shit
And I leave it to y’all to freestyle and battle and shit
That’s not me, I’m more at home with the chrome
Or at play wit the yay, moving 12 for a zone, I’m gone

User’s Atmosphere

Watership Song

Sometimes… I have no idea of our future…it’s like… outlines of hills and trees, behind a veil of rain.