As much as I like "above the clouds" and all the other songs that everybody likes :shk:. I have to say gangstarr just doesn't do it for me. No
matter when it comes out, it always sounds like it's from 1991. Bummer.
The voices ain't leave yet,
they just gettin' they feet wet
Eyes red, I'm up, ain't been to sleep yet
Damn near two days, ain't even eat yet
If you don't wanna bounce, 'least take a little recess
And still I'm faced with the bull#
Feelin' like Willy D, Scarface and Bushwick
Dog, just when I gather its dead
I gotta knock on wood like Hank Gathers head
When I make small steps toward making it global
My tight knit circle turns into a oval
Filled with motha #as just pretendin' they know you
These snakes in the grass'll do whatever to coax you
Since they wanna hem you quick
I walk around like a Ginsu's tip
And that's just to get a mental grip
You don't feel what the pencil scripts
Then eight times outta ten you ain't been through #
When you hear Joe you hear the conviction and diction
That open emotion, devotion is different
Real talk of when he ain't have a pot to piss in
He ain't have a car not one rock to glisten
I'm giving 'em non-fiction,
conning his addictions
Ya'll got the easy job, just listen
I do it for my folk and those of another pigment
A little food for thought, you feelin' malnutrition
But you don't hear a peep outta me
About the black face goin' on and the sheep leadin' sheep
It's deep, so I try to stay grounded like dad
Must be in City Island, I'm surrounded by crabs
Was once tight, grew apart for dollars
Was on the same panel, now he's Starring Barbara
Two different views, two different lifestyles
I think 'long the way one of us got confused
Look, you a hustla, still attracted to the scene
Still doin' # I gave up at sixteen
You won't get a job, believin' your own lies
You rationalize by sayin' you pursing your dreams
You damn near thirty nigga you ain't got cream
Can't take care of you when you worried 'bout your team
My dude, want a hand out, wait in line
But the clock's still tickin' man you playin' with time,
It's so sweet
Thought I was #ed up with no shoes 'til I met me a nigga with no feet
Tried to help niggas, some niggas I couldn't
That's my mom in me, I love niggas I shouldn't
Dudes wanna shoot 'em 'til he nailed
Some wanna threaten me, ruin my health
Let me teach you a little something 'bout depression
Ain't # you could do to me I ain't already thought about doing to myself
I'm the voice for the youth that's living with no reason
# record sales, I give 'em something to believe in
If your day starts in that broken home
Though we never met, 'least they feel like they not alone
Like I was back when I was tryna' find dip
The tsunami came through my hood in nine six
And tried to murder dog,
I took a little dive
Then I got on my surfin board and kept slidin'
Feel like A-Rod, some say his time's up
Boo a nigga at home, yup I'm in my prime But
he by far the best player on the team
And then turn around, drop 'em to the bottom of the lineup
Should get traded, but he don't wanna move
'Cause this the only city he got somethin' to prove
And that's why I'm seen with heaters
'Cause you can't be the man when you on the same team as Jeter Ya dig,
it's like the game ain't gettin' suitable
Makin' me so sick I need Chicken Noodle Soup
Rappers flyin' high, then got suicidal
Imitate Jim Jones, end up like Cory Lidle
I married hip hop, ignored what some was tellin' me
I started hearin' rumors of infidelity,
I ain't divorce 'er
All the other dudes is so wack that I even feel a little jealousy
forreal i cant get enough BTNH i like alot of there lesser known songs though even though thuggish ruggish bone and crossroads are great songs this
one is one of my absolute favorites
on top of the world, yet i ain't never left my head, no turn to look back
every seventh page is an anthem for a different mood.
in a perfect world i set the perfect mood.
in this perverted abode i claim rogue in plain clothes,
and sing songs of utter depression, love, chemical imbalance, sheer paranoia.
my science is fiction, i kick space raps for the down to earth heads,
the kids that get dubs are the only ones that want to listen.
my words are my world, believe it or not they mean a lot to some.
can't say that i'm ahead of my time, i fear that my time wll never come.
can't exist outside the bottle or crack under pressure,
no one questions how we got here and if we don't things won't get any better.
lesser demigod, foreign object, stuffed animal animating
in a still life digital labrea tarpit,
walking in circles is my red carpet.
these are distress signals spanning you and i
in verses, so if anyone hears i'm the sole survivor of a dying civilization.
a galaxy called integrity, in the belt of creativity.
but it's now a black dwarf snuffed by cold world.
i keep warm by burning dead bodies.
smell of defeat's sun never sets,
it's all ours, we can walk the streets until the buildings no longer remain.
my people are my people karma's an ally the line's been drawn,
this is my gold tank, everywhere i go i don't belong.
unknown by most, hated by many, adored by the rest,
beliefs are shed skin...i'm so east, well why did i end up on the west?
don't want to sacrifice my cadence and sentence structure design by rhymes, etc.
anticon...hip hop music for the advancement of mankind.
more than an egomaniacal, sarcastic label for a movement.
the wind of change still smells like a million corpses in kerosine marching
to burn down the walls and the village and storm the castle,
round up the damsels take 'em to the river, now we can spawn.
this ain't premillenium tension, it's the result of too much free time,
on dusty fingers and it'll be a wonderful ride.
a million bleeding hearts composing prose in blood to live and die a thousand times.
ever been to hell? this is a black and white photo album,
outlined in infrared the infrastructure is dead.
instructors fled the scene of the massacre asking for forgiveness no begging.
no leg and only body everybody's dummies in the alleyway,
sole casts the rolling luck watch my breath and outline my words in white chalk.
gawking at reflections, walking in missed directions catching bad ones.
this isn't spoken word, it's the reinvention of sugarhill.
right now your girl is transfixed upon my scripts, and this is sole
we're making love right now, so i don't need to take her to the hotel.
this is a love song, i'd pass out roses but the thorns sear my flesh,
i'm like there are no groupies, i'm a mammal my whole life is a freestyle set.
stars only exist in the sky so nothing gets to my head,
the universe is my a&r by the time i fall off i'll probably be dead.
it's been a long time since the mountain pine trees and shoveling snow,
now my closest peers are the greatest talent i'll ever know.
music's gotten impersonal, hip hop persona's gotten vain,
so mcs i ain't feeling you if i don't know your real name.
hip hop ain't dead, the industry isn't wack, indy hip hop is a demo fair.
keep your sights set, what you wanna move rats, minds, or posteriors?
i'm still a fan, corporate insider and rainmaker.
it's springtime, where are the centaurs and people in grass skirts?
... etc...
deep puddle dynamics and anticon = best hip-hop in the universe
i understand the concept of concepts.. lol.. but when i want to listen to hip-hop i want to listen to hip-hop.. not some rambling over a beat, half of
which i don't even understand
as for aesop rock goes.. i can atleast tolerate him.. you'd probably never hear him coming out of my speakers but im not going to complain if someone
is playin his shhh
Styles of Beyond! You now rockin' wit Ryu and Tox..
And their project with that guy from Linkin Park, "Fort Minor".
Yeah yeah they kinda "glorify" hip hop culture to the point of tryin' to be poster boys but the rhymes are really well thought and intricate, not
alot of petty gun talk..
Yeah, but, whenever you're listening to DOOM or Madlib you're listening to concepts. You'd consider that to be something else then Hip-Hop? What
about Del The Funkee Homosapien? He rarely leaves out the concept side of things.
I don't know man. That song sounds really... Uh... Well, it doesn't exactly sound good. The rapper reminds me too much of a mid 90's boy band. The
music isn't good at all. I can't help but not listen to the lyrics. Just not catching me. :shk:
I'm a fan of all of the stuff mentioned by Pojar (AKA Donoso), but there are a few things he didn't mention.
While I'm not a huge fan of every One Self song, there are a few in particular that are very good--particularly Bluebird and Hollow Human Beings.
I've also found myself drawn to some of Percee P's stuff, primarily because I like his delivery, but also because he's a member of Stones Throw and
tends to get handed interesting beats.
Damn, I forgot to mention Yarah Bravo. It's not One Self that I enjoy (mainly because DJ Vadim isn't all that interesting) but whenever Yarah is
rapping, it's solid.
I like to defend the true hip-hop so it doesnt get lumped together with all of the crap that is out today. I run the gamut of different hip-hip and
rap, I just tend to stay away from the crunk type stuff.
I have been hooked on Kev Brown for about a minute. he is a producer lyricist out of Landover Maryland, and while his lyrics arent anything that is
gonna change the game, his beats are absolutely sick. Also, Jay Electronica has woo'd me over the past week or two. he did this joint where he
looped some beats from "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and it is sickening. Peep it.
If you havent heard of him, check youtube for some vids as well as his blog.
I managed to listen to the Talib Kweli & Madlib album called "Liberation" - It's really terrible. The beats Madlib made are decent, there's really
only one song that shines. That's Funny Money but again, that's mostly because of the beat.
I may get bashed for this... but... I don't really think Kweli is all that amazing when it comes to lyrics. Just doesn't seem like a good writer.