[$horty Akbar]

Originally Posted by innaspace

heres a quote from Smoke of Field Mob (not that hes anybody but he speaks the truth)

"Me and Shawn [J] we still make Hip-Hop music, but people don't wanna accept it because it got a southern twang. Hip-hop is wordplay, saying something, metaphors. I love Hip-Hop. I fell in love with Mobb Deep [and] Nas -- these are the people that influenced me. People like Bun B. He's a Hip-Hop artist. MJG, Eightball -- those are hip-hop southern artists. The old south is Hip-Hop. The new south...naaahh!"

this is a real southern motherfucker not being biased and telling it how it is.

Now see that's how I feel about the South. Back in the day, the South had talent. You had -----z doin' what the North/East and the West was doin', just with a different style. You had your songs about killin' mother fuckas, ya had ya songs about ya baby momma leavin' you/cheatin' on you/etc., you had ya deep shit ya shit with -----z tellin' stories. Now, I'm not tryna say that so & so did this or so & so ruined that, but the South just ain't what it used to be. From my opinion the only form of hip hop in decline is Southern hip hop. I like New York/East Coast rap, them -----z is killin' it. I like West Coast shit. But it's the Southern shit I don't like. What makes us look bad is that the wrong people are getting noticed. Field Mob is the perfect example of what the South USED to be. I got all three of the albums they put out and that is some of the best rap shit from the South I've ever heard. But naw, -----z like Joc, D4L, Bow Wow (who ain't even from the god damn South), Master P, get all the recognition. They the -----z on BET and MTV makin' the exact same songs with different beats, then, with them being from the South, everyone looks at it like, "Damn the South is whack!" When it ain't the truth. I know everyone got they own taste in music, but I recommend y'all check out Field Mob (not that shit they did with Ciara or that damn Georgia song) some OLD No Limit before the only artist on the lable were P and his homosexual son, hell even some OLD 3-6. But uh, yeah, that's my 2 cents.

[Young Ef]

Ether Or Tha Take Ova?

What song was better??

[$horty Akbar]

That ain't even a question you gotta ask man, Ether. Beat was better, lyrics was better. Nas SLAUGHTERED that -----. Just spanked him. Spanked him like an angry woman.

[innaspace]

yeah ether

new discussion :D

[leatherface187]

deffinately ether, im a known jay hater, but no matter who that was aimed at it would have killed.

[PDP]

allright new subject

2-pac - hit em up vs Biggies - who shot ya

[innaspace]

As a song who shot ya
As a diss hit em up

gotta love that rakim bassline

[Young Ef]

New Topic

Cassidy....

Had Cassidy not been in that horrible accident that nearly claimed his life do you think his third album would have had an impact on the music scene in NY?

[leatherface187]

cassidy aint gonna make no impact if he dont get on his shit, basically go back to how he used to flip it before he got his first deal, and him and t.i need to stop using old jay samples for choruses lol, not hating on jay, just hating on the over use of one artist influence to sell records

[innaspace]

new topic

what is the best (if you absolutely cant do best then top 2) hip hop verse of all time

from a lyrical standpoint id have to say Inspectah Deck's verse on Triumph

I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies
and hypothesis can't define how I be droppin these
mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me
Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits
tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics
I inspect you, through the future see millenium
Killa B's sold fifty gold sixty platinum
Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths
Black Wu jackets queen B's ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly
Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock
Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block

and it isnt like hes makin up some ga ga bullshit it all makes sense

[Young Ef]

well oviously Leatherface didn't read the question

I SAID HAD HE NOT BEEN NEARLY MURDERED WOULD HE HAVE REFLECTED ON NY HIP-HOP SCENE

And innaspace my verse is

Visualizin the realism of life and 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 of 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 the schwepervesence 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, and to that day we expire and turn to vapors
me and my capers-ll be somewhere stackin plenty papers
Keepin it real, packin steel, gettin high
Cause life's a bitch and then you die

[leatherface187]

i did read it, i was talking about how he wasnt making and inpact before the accident, he would have stayed on the same damn track, obviously you didnt interpret it how i meant it

anyway

my verses
BIG PUN

Ay-yo my murderous rap verbal attack is actual fact
Tactical tracks match perfectly with graphical stats
Half a you lack the magical dap of tragical rap
That tackles you back and shackles and laughs at you
That's...the mathematical madness I'm on, the savage, the strong
The marriage, a bond of havoc and song
This massacre's on as if Picasso laced you
There's lotsa hateful skeletons locked
in the closet of my castle of Grayskull
I'm possum at grade school, that's why I have to debate you
My raps are like Capel, slashin' your face, you
That's how a master degrades you
I'm battlin' Jesus (hay-soos) if he passes through my label
I'm snatchin' his halo
God I pray that you send my father back as an angel
Language is fatal and it's hypnotizin'
I'm only emphasizin', I'm still all about business and enterprisin'
I'm super lyrical, a brain boosts the chemicals
That's used contenicals inside of my mental projectable

Aiyyo the plot thickens, I'm pickin the locks in the back entrance
Payin attention, not tryin to get knocked and catch a fat sentence
Not to mention these kids is mafioso with lots of dough so
they got poco lock with the down to rock Morocco chokehold (oh oh)
Their security system's linear laser protection
No sweat, I brought the miniature mirrors for reflectin
Inspectin the vault, for weapons assault, second of course
It's poisonous rays, boiled and baked in epsom salt
Rep in New York is the cat burgalar, the fat murderer
Slippin the clip in the Mac, inserterer
Hurtin your pockets, droppin your stock to zero profit
Holding heroes hostage and mansions for ransom like DeNiro mob flicks
Back to the top again, hand the grand prize
The safe flies open, the shining was blinding my eyes
I cracked the code, enough ice to make you laugh at gold
Passed the dough to Cuban started movin for the back real slow
That's when I heard the sirens hopin that my ears was lyin
Knew we was dyin when I saw the guard we tortured cryin
Pointing at the building screamin, "I can see them, kill em!"
Snipers was willing but couldn't, there's too many civilians
Still inside nowhere to hide nowhere to run
Cuban said, "Fuck it, we die, we die busting our guns"

i couldnt deside

[innaspace]

good choices. another one is nas on verbal intercourse, ill post the lyrics later

[PHAT-DUB]

Yo its impossible to thrash it down to 1, 2 or even ten, or tweny, when you've catalouged an' listened to as many tunes as I have but heres a nice one from Immortal Technique's track-Industrial Revolution, off his album-Revolutionary Volume 2:

"I want $53 million for my callused Hands
Like the Bush administration gave to the Taliban
And fuck packin' grams, n***a learn to speak and behave
You wanna spend 20 years as a government slave?
Two million people in prison keep the government paid
Stuck in a 6 by 8 cell-alive in the grave
I was made by revolution, to speak to the masses
Deep in the club toast the truth, reach for your glasses
I'll Burn an orphanage just to bring heat to you bastards
Innocent, deep in the casket, Columbian Fashion
Intoxicated off the flow like thugs passion
You mutha-fuckas'll never get me to stop blastin'
You better off asking Ariel Sharon for Compassion
You better off begging for 20 points from a label
You better off battling cancer under telephone cables
Technique, chemically unstable set to explode
Foretold by the Dead Sea Scrolls, written in code
So if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you sold
'Cause if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck
It just means that a million people are stupid as fuck
Stuck in the underground, a general that rose to the limit
Without distrabution, managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2 murders the critics
And leaves your fucking body rotten for the roaches and the crickets
This is the business and yall ain't gettin noothing for free
And if you devils play broke, then I'm taking your company
You could call it reparations or restitution
Lock and load, n***a, industrial Revoulution"


What yall think?

[innaspace]

tech has those deep verses with meaning and shit but lyrically like with disgusting metaphors and punchlines and shit hes alright. i like his verse on industrial revolution, the one where he says "like an escape tunnel in prison, i started from scratch"

Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
I'm grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
while, funny style -----z roll in the pile
Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle
Holdin weed inside they pussy with they minds on the
pretty things in life, props is a true thug's wife
It's like a cycle, -----z come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual

then theres rza on impossible

Fusion of the five elements, to search for the higher intelligence
Women walk around celibate, livin irrelevant
The most benelovent king, communicatin through your dreams
Mental pictures been painted, Allah's heard and seen
everywhere, throughout your surroundin atmosphere
Troposphere, thermosphere, stratosphere
Can you imagine from one single idea, everything appeared here
Understanding makes my truth, crystal clear
Innocent black immigrants locked in housing tenemants
Eighty-Five percent tenants depend on welfare recipients
Stapleton's been stamped as a concentration camp
At night I walk through, third eye is bright as a street lamp
Electric microbes, robotic probes
Taking telescope pictures of globe, babies getting pierced with microchips
stuffed inside their earlobes, then examinated
Blood contaminated, vaccinated, lives fabricated
Exaggerated authorization, Food and Drug Administration
Testin poison in prison population
My occupation to stop the innauguration of Satan
Some claim that it was Reagan, so I come to slay men
like Bartholemew, cause every particle is physical article
was diabolical to the last visible molecule
A space night like Rom, consume planets like Unicron
Blasting photon bombs from the arm like Galvatron