Quote the Illest Verse/Lines !

Vanilla Ice redefining the word ''ill'' wickedph

I'm like a panther in the dark
Silent when I strike the paper
Like a dagger in your heart
When I write I leave a mark
I seen a NARC before they even bark
Told son "leave the block"
Get that money upstairs
In case the 'covers see it's marked
Beat a man who plot against me, God forgive me
My enemies die in the street if my heat is empty
Coindentally
The same fate was meant for me
My AK's my lawyer
When it's on, it represent for me
Vacate the sentence
Case acquitted when your face get splitted
I stay spittin' with grace, chain glistenin'
Gray timberlands, my niggas face predicaments
But we could either live, die, or face imprisonment
Take a hit of this,
Uncut raw, a taste will numb your jaw
My rhyme is on consignment
Just in case you wanted more
Lyrics are furious
I reign imperious
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me son, I'm dead serious
Streets personify me
Like heat I keep beside me
Either I be, the most underrated lyrical
Drug related nigga who gun be blazin in the projects
A prosperous drug block is subject to conquest
Where I'm from
A fiend is selling heated for five jugs
Dealers scatter when D's or Y come
R.I.P. is written on walls for people who die young
And niggas either dream of b-balling, or to be balling
Sometimes it's hard for me to write,
Son, the streets calling
Patience is a virtue
Temptation will hurt you
And sentence to a bid
Your fake friends will desert you
Til' you're assed out
Screaming life's a b!tch that burnt you
I don't expect a fake nigga to feel this
Look in my eyes, stare at the realness.
- Cormega

Classic song. Amazing beat, nice scratches, incredible flow from Corey. Better than Nas? It's definitely debatable.

whether hes better or not is debatable, but i definitely like him more.

Yeah, you pronounce my name (Kweli), any questions?
I bring many blessings with my man Hi-Tek and he from the Natti (Natti)
We make the sky crack, feel the fly track,
get your hands up like a hijack
Fist in the air for (Kweli), keep 'em there like
Natural mystic or smoke when they spliffs lit
It's a revolutionary (party), they ask me what I'm writin for
I'm writin to show you what we fightin for
Say Taleeb or Talib (Kweli), if it's hard try spellin it phonetically
If not then just let it be like Nina Simone,
you probably (ably) don't listen B
Even when we suffer loses I account the victory
Sometimes it's far and between I'm sad to say
it got my brain crowded like sunset on a Saturday
I know my son wept 'cause his dad's away
Stop cryin be strong for your momma is what I had to say

This is probabaly the illest Kool G Rap Verse that I've heard.

In the garden of snakes, ain't no breaks, no mistakes,
Just games that's played at high stakes, the next guys wake,
Try ta fly straight, not violate if you wanna die late,
The tri-state, crime at a high rate, where pupils dilate,
Gun shots that make the block vibrate, and shook niggas migrate,
Some die by fate, yo niggas cry hate,
A fly face'll get they thighs scraped,
Then a little P-U-S-S-Y's raped,
A kid inside his gate, gets murdered by jake,
A young nigga tries to fry cakes, and gets caught on the FBI tape,
him verse of the State,
Lost the case and gotta fry date,
1998, day of July 8th,
Some cats get to stack the high papes,
and live in skyscrapes,
Go to LI and buy fly estates,
Where they can hibernate and operate,
Impregnate, some chinky eye mate,
Other niggas will lay a power race, wit tre 8's
Tryin' to apply weight,
and ready ta die snakes, starve and dehydrate

"Cannonfire" from Roots of Evil

i take it your a big g-rap fan eh?

id say about 80 percent of the lyrics you posted were his 😛

Originally posted by Phat J
i take it your a big g-rap fan eh?

id say about 80 percent of the lyrics you posted were his 😛

yea, that is true isn't it. I just think his lyrics are just f***ing sick as hell that's why, lol. I know plenty of headz who are nice lyrically but Gangsta-wise, G. Rap owns. He's just mad graphic and detailed and his wordplay is incomparable. To me, IMhO. He's nice, check it.

Beef over,
I blew him like a Supernova,
niggas nicknamed me: tha Black Roper,
The lady Casanova yo I'm even deadly when I'm sober,
act like you got a chip on your shoulder,
i'm clappin' 2 right thru your boulder,
money you didn't know they should'a told ya,
niggas you f***in' wit a soldier,
wake up and smell the Foldgers.
niggas dig up lime pits to cover up the oder,
operations from here to Minnesota to Dakotas,

that's what you call ill.

Breathin in deep city breaths, sittin on shitty steps
we stoop to new lows, hell froze the night the city slept
The beast crept through concrete jungles
communicatin with one another
And ghetto birds where waters fall
from the hydrants to the gutters
The beast walk the beats, but the beats we be makin
You on the wrong side of the track, lookin visibly shaken
Taken them plungers, plungin to death that's painted by the numbers
with crime unapplied pressure, cats is playin God
but havin children by a lesser baby mother but **** it
we played against each other like puppets, swearin you got pull
when the only pull you got is the wool over your eyes
Gettin knowledge in jail like a blessing in disguise
Look in the skies for God, what you see besides the smog
is broken dreams flying away on the wings of the obscene
Thoughts that people put in the air
Places where you could get murdered over a glare
But everything is fair
It's a paradox we call reality
So keepin it real will make you casualty of abnormal normality
Killers Born Naturally like, Mickey and Mallory
Not knowing the ways'll get you capped like an NBA salary
Some cats be emceeing to illustrate what we be seeing
Hard to be a spiritual being when shit is shakin what you believe in
For trees to grow in Brooklyn, seeds need to be planted
I'm asking if y'all feel me AND THE CROWD LEFT ME STRANDED
My blood pressure boiled and rose, cause New York niggaz
actin spoiled at shows, to the winners the spoils go
I take the L, transfer to the 2, head to the gates
New York life type trife the Roman Empire state

Talib Kweli

Behold, a pale emcee
Judging like a book, everything you claim to be
I act on motivation, don't like to waste my time
I'm puttin truth in music, to stimulate the mind
Do not emulate my kind - or mistake that plusness for weakness
I'm observant - don't like secrets
I'm a servant with the deep dish
At times I'm speechless but I'll freak this to my favor
I'm your neighbor, your life savor, you're doomed
The smartest in the room at any given time
You have fantasies I'm living mine.. out
That's what I'm about, the root of the route I'm taking
You used to the doubt and I'm breaking the mold

The Grouch

When the sun begins to dim
And eventually the day dies
And the mood prepares to sway
That's where another way lies
Glow of the liquor store lights
Set the scene for no rights
Let's convene, discuss the scheme
And hope it flows how we dream
Tonight can make or break you if you let it
Someone set it out for you to let it out
Now don't regret it
Get embedded to the back drop
Positioned there with your cash crop
Envision night as the last stop
Don't miss the train
It's time to gain, strain, aim, fire
Blame, reign, **** and then retire
I'm liar past eleven, after one I'm on the run
Till the sun comes up tomorrow
I'm working, you're having fun
Not too devious, but that's me
Spontaneous if you ask me
But then again, I'm blending in.

The Grouch

Originally posted by FistOfThe North
yea, that is true isn't it. I just think his lyrics are just f***ing sick as hell that's why, lol. I know plenty of headz who are nice lyrically but Gangsta-wise, G. Rap owns. He's just mad graphic and detailed and his wordplay is incomparable. To me, IMhO. He's nice, check it.

I dunno, he's definitely up there, but I think Cormega is a little better. I'm always feeling Mega's beats more too, in the post-Polo days.

On the microphone you know that I'm one of the best yet
Some punks, ain't paid all of their debts yet
Tryin to be fly, ridin high on the jet-set
With juvenile rhymes makin fake-ass death threats
Big deal, like En Vogue, here's something you can feel
Styles more tangible, and image more real
For some time now, I've held the scrolls and manuscripts
When it's time to go all out you be like, "Damn he flipped"
Now I'm sick, fed up with the bullshit
Got the lyrical full clip, giving you a verbal asswhip
Don't trip it's the gifted prolific one
Known as Bald Head Slick -- why is the press all on my di-dick?
My style be wilder, than a kamikaze pilot
Don't try it, I'm about to start more than a friggin riot
Styles unsurpassable, and nuccas that's suckas, yo
Them mother****ers are harrassable
For I be speaking from my parables and carry you beyond
The mic's either a magic wand
Or it gets tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb
Then I grab your palm, no pulse you're gone
And if you thought we'd lose our niche in this rap shit you way wrong
I stay up, I stay on, shine bright, like neon
Your song's, pathetic, synthetic, like Rayon
Fat beats, they play on, want dope rhymes, put me on
Word is bond... you know my steez

Originally posted by Deathblow
I dunno, he's definitely up there, but I think Cormega is a little better. I'm always feeling Mega's beats more too, in the post-Polo days.

To each his own but to me, from that "Ill Street Blues" track, to that "Giancana Story" album and everything in between, had the sickest times and moments there was in the game, imo.

This is doomsday, for MCs with hollow skills
Who talk about clothing articles and dollar bills
And fake ass rides that they dont even drive
Hip-hop's war and only strong MCs will survive

-Warcloud

"We eat fish, tossed salads and make rap ballads
The biochemical slang lord'll throw the arrows in the dope fiend
Vocal chords switch laser beams my triple sevens
Broke the slot machines out in Queens, Grey Poupon is rebel on rap
Smack on, swing like batons, most want niggas smoked like Hilshire Farms
Check the gun we sew, underneath my shoe lies the tap
That attract bow-legged bitches with wide horse gaps
In steel mills iron he'll smoke the blow on Duns
You run heroins, Primatine mist is afraid of my lungs
Turn my channel, it'll blow your whole bench off the panel
Like 80 roman candles that backfired then slammed you
Every day is like a video shoot, check this shit
I take you back to Playboy, stash guns and whips
Picture afro, big shish-ka-bobs and daishikis
1000 civil marched blazed their fists in early sixties"
- Ghostface Killah

see i cant get into that at all, i dont understand 95 percent of it.

isnt tossing someones salad what happens to the fish in jail? like is that what the metaphor is, cuz thats sort of weird to say taht in a rap. im probably way off, enlighten me.

Originally posted by Phat J
see i cant get into that at all, i dont understand 95 percent of it.

isnt tossing someones salad what happens to the fish in jail? like is that what the metaphor is, cuz thats sort of weird to say taht in a rap. im probably way off, enlighten me.

Yo check yo yo, check the script
Me and the gods get it ripped
Blunts in the dip, forty dogs in my lip
Had a box, 'Boom Boom' the bass will blast
We was laughing, at all the girls that passed
Conversation, brothers had begin to discuss
(Hey yo, Ra, remember that kid ya bust?)
Aw yeah, he ran, but he didn't get far
Cause I dropped him, heh heh heh heh heh HA
Not knowin, exactly what lied ahead
My little brother, my mother sent him out for bread
Get the Wonder, it's a hot day in the summer
Didn't expect, to come across, a crazy gunner
"Hey Shorty, check it for the bag and the dough"
But he was brave, looked him in the eye, and said "No!!"
Money splattered him, BOW! then he snatched the bag
In his pockets, then he jetted up the Ave.
Girls screamin, the noise up and down the block
(Hey, Rakeem!) What? (Your little brother got shot!)
I ran frantically, then I dropped down to his feet
I saw the blood, all over, the hot concrete
I picked him up, then I held him by his head
His eyes shut, that's when I knew he was...
Aw man! How do I say goodbye?
It's alway the good ones who have to die
Memories in the corner of my mind
Flashbacks, I was laughin all the time
I taught him, all about the bees and birds
But I wish I had a chance to sing these three words

RZA - Tearz

Not sure if they've been mentioned, but a few of my favs are:

Q-Tip from Buggin Out:

Zulu Nation, brothers that's creation
Minds get flooded, ejaculation
right on the two inch tape
The Abstract poet incognito, runsss the cape

MF Doom from Rap Snitch Knishes

he keep a lab down south in the little beast
so much heat you woulda thought it was the middle east
a little grease always keeps the wheels a spinnin'
like, sittin on 23's to get the sqealers grinnin'
hittin' on many trees feel real linen
spittin' on enimes get the steel for tin men
with no brains, but gum flap
he said his gun clapped, then he fled after one slap
son shut yo' trap, save it for the bitches
mm.. delicious, rapp snitch knishes

MF Doom from Hey!

watch the path of the black one, the supervillain,
who reps clubs in delf, in a drunken stupor, chillin.
ready and willin to inadvertently foil that,
plan of any rhymer, whiner or spoiled brat,
who got more snottier flows then snotty-nose,
and holds mics like he knows karate body blows.

Eminem from Bad Meets Evil

don't speak, I float in the air wrapped in a sheet
I'm not a real person, I'm a ghost trapped in a beat
I translate when my voice is read through a sismograph
And a noise is bred, picked up and transmitted through Royce's head (AAHHH)
Trapped him in his room, possessed him and hoist his bed
Till the evilness flows through his blood like poisonous lead
Told him each one of his boys is dead
I asked him to come to the dark side, he made a choice and said

INS from Guillotines

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 assaulta
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 rest is I, Rebel INS
Ya highness, blessed to electrify
with voltage of an eel, truth that I reveal'll
crush the amateurs who screamed to 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

Masta Killa off Da Mystery of Chessboxin'

Homicide's illegal and death is the penalty
What justifies the homicide, when he dies?
In his own iniquity it's the
Master of the Mantis Rapture comin at cha
we have an APB on an MC Killer
look like the work of a Master
evidence indicates that's it's stature
merciless like a terrorist hard to capture
the flow changes like a chameleon
plays like a friend, and stabs you like a dagger
this technique attacks the immune system
Disguised like a lie paralyzin the victim
you scream, as it enters your bloodstream
erupts your brain from the pain these thoughts contain
movin on a nigga with the speed of a centipede
and injure ANY MOTHA****IN CONTENDER

RZA - Tearz [/B]

✅