Eminem >>>>> Biggie Smalls
|7 years ago||'04 #41|
$914 | 0
and all i do is go into post and rebuttal,.. sad thing is nobody ever actually come's back with any kind of reasoning behind anything,.. IF they say anthing its like your stupid or some s**t,,.. no explanations to what they actually mean
wrong i never have went in a thread and said em is this or em is that,.. i just explain some things to be in a diff light,..
Last edited by STUNTIN; 05-13-2009 at 11:41 AM..
|7 years ago||'04 #46|
$914 | 0
and i edited my top post if u havent seen
|7 years ago||'04 #47|
$612 | 1
The truth hurts eh? It's like those folks that just can't admit that eminem lyrically slaughtered jigga on Renegades.
Lyrically, not many out there have s**t on the white boy.
Motherf**kers catchin feelings and all... Haha. It is what it is.
|7 years ago||'05 #48|
$688 | 0
I hardly ever post in here anymore but I had to chime in on this one. Marshall ain't close to touching BI and this is coming from a dude that's born and raised in Detroit, and still heavily involved in the Detroit Hip-Hop community (check my resume if you really wanna get it crackin in here myspace.com/mixtapesinc or mixtapesinc.com whichever you prefer) Since you mustve forget I'ma remind you about BI and we can go track for track in this muthf* wit Marshall, I dont care if this thread is 209582483782 pages long. And I have heard the Relapse and the sh*ts probably his wackest album if you ask me. Whoever told Marshall this new foreign flow he has is HOT raise your hand because I got news for you, s**tS WACK!!! With all that being said, being around the Detroit Hip-Hop scene you can truely appreciate the obstacles that Marshall had to over-come and he is truely one of the greats but THERE'S NO WAY he's f*'in wit BI and MARSHALL WILL TELL YOU THAT HIMSELF LIL' HOMIE!!! And you keep mentioning BI rapping about material sh* that all mcs rapp about, well I got a question for you, WHO DO YOU THINK STARTED ALL THAT??? Dudes was not rapping about Coogi's and bling until BI came out, everybody was WEST-COAST STOOPID til BI dropped. Even still BI is one of the most versatile MCS to do it, GO ASK BONE-THUGS!! I bet you can't recite a word they said in Notorious Thugs BUT BET 50 YOU CAN RECITE EVERY WORD BI said and THE WHOLE CLUB DOES IT WHEN THAT JOINT COMES ON. Not to mention his storytellin skillz (I Got A Story to Tell) and he penned the GREATEST HIP-HOP joint ever and thats where I'ma start my post but your gonna be hearing from me for quite a while, so get used to it. The nerve of kids these dayz...SMH!!!
(f**k all you hoes) Get a grip motherf**ker.
Yeah, this album is dedicated to all the teachers that told me
I'd never amount to nothin', to all the people that lived above the
buildings that I was hustlin' in front of that called the police on
me when I was just tryin' to make some money to feed my daughters,
and all the n*ggaz in the struggle, you know what I'm sayin'?
Uh-ha, it's all good baby bay-bee, uh
It was all a dream
I used to read Word Up magazine
Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin' pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped
Smokin' weed and bamboo, sippin' on private stock
Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack
With the hat to match
Remember Rappin' Duke, duh-ha, duh-ha
You never thought that hip hop would take it this far
Now I'm in the limelight 'cause I rhyme tight
Time to get paid, blow up like the World Trade
Born filla, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri
Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starsky
I'm blowin' up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number same hood
It's all good
Uh, and if you don't know, now you know, n*gga, uh
You know very well who you are
Don't let em hold you down, reach for the stars
You had a go, but not that many
'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty
I made the change from a common thief
To up close and personal with Robin Leach
And I'm far from cheap, I smoke skunk with my peeps all day
Spread love, it's the Brooklyn way
The Moet and Alize keep me pissy
Girls used to diss me
Now they write letters 'cause they miss me
I never thought it could happen, this rappin' stuff
I was too used to packin' gats and stuff
Now honies play me close like butter played toast
From the Mississippi down to the east coast
Condos in Queens, indo for weeks
Sold out seats to hear Biggie Smalls speak
Livin' life without fear
Puttin' 5 karats in my baby girl's ears
Lunches, brunches, interviews by the pool
Considered a fool 'cause I dropped out of high school
Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood
And it's still all good
Uh...and if you don't know, now you know, n*gga
Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis
When I was dead broke, man I couldn't picture this
50 inch screen, money green leather sofa
Got two rides, a limousine with a chauffeur
Phone bill about two G's flat
No need to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is loungin'
Celebratin' every day, no more public housin'
Thinkin' back on my one-room shack
Now my mom pimps a Ac' with minks on her back
And she loves to show me off, of course
Smiles every time my face is up in The Source
We used to fuss when the landlord dissed us
No heat, wonder why Christmas missed us
Birthdays was the worst days
Now we sip champagne when we thirst-ay
Uh, damn right I like the life I live
'Cause I went from negative to positive
And it's all...
(It's all good)
...and if you don't know, now you know, n*gga, uh
Uh, uh...and if you don't know, now you know, n*gga
Uh...and if you don't know, now you know, n*gga, uh
|7 years ago||'05 #49|
$688 | 0
Ten Crack Commandments lyrics
(Chuck D) One two three four five six seven eight nine
Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments
What, uhh, uhh
n*gga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh
Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed
To my hustlin n*ggaz
n*ggaz on the corner I ain't forget you n*ggaz
My triple beam n*ggaz, word up
(Chuck D) One two three four five six seven eight nine
I been in this game for years, it made me a animal
It's rules to this s**t, I wrote me a manual
A step by step booklet for you to get
your game on track, not your wig pushed back
Rule nombre uno: never let no one know
how much, dough you hold, cause you know
The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially
if that man f**ked up, get your a.ss stuck up
Number two: never let em know your next move
Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence
Take it from your highness (uh-huh)
I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips
Number three: never trust no-bo-dy
Your moms'll set that a.ss up, properly gassed up
Hoodie to mask up, s**t, for that fast buck
she be layin in the bushes to light that a.ss up
Number four: know you heard this before
Never get high, on your own supply
Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at
I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce
Number six: that god damn credit, dead it
You think a crackhead payin you back, s**t forget it
Seven: this rule is so underrated
Keep your family and business completely seperated
Money and blood don't mix like two d**ks and no b***h
Find yourself in serious s**t
Number eight: never keep no weight on you
Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too
Number nine shoulda been number one to me
If you ain't gettin bags stay the f**k from police (uh-huh)
If n*ggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen
They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin
Number ten: a strong word called consignment
Strictly for live men, not for freshmen
If you ain't got the clientele say hell no
Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow
Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up
If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up
Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up
Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass
Your girl f**ked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks
she sniffed a whole half of cake up
Heard she suck a good d**k, and can hook a steak up
Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh
|05-13-2009, 12:47 PM||#50|
Em >>> BIG?
The Em d**kriding on boxden has gotten way outta hand. Stans talking too much nonsense since Relapse dropped
Last edited by Krazy K; 05-13-2009 at 12:50 PM..
|7 years ago||'05 #51|
$688 | 0
"Long Kiss Goodnight"
TIME, TIME FOR YOU To DIE
AS I KISS--YOur--ASS--GOODNIGHT
I make your mouthpiece obese like Della Reese
When I release, you loose teeth like Little Cease
Blood floods your dungarees
And that's just a half of my warpath
Laugh now cry later, I rhyme greater
than the average player hater, and spectators
Buy my CD twice
They see me in the streets they be like you he nice
But that's on the low doe'
be the cats with no dough, tried to play me at my show
I pull out 4-4's, and go up in they clothes
extortion came quicker
Bought the Range' n*gga
You still tickle me
I used to be as strong as ripple, till Little Cease crippled me
Now I play hard-like my girls n*pples be
The games sour like like a pickle be
You all know the rules
Move from BK to New Jerus
Thinking 'bout, all the planes we flew
b***hes, we ran through
Now the years new
I lay my game flat
I want my spot back, take two
Motherf**kers mad 'cause I blew, n*ggas envious
Too many n*ggas on my d**k, s**t's strenuous
When my men bust, you just move wit such stamina
Slugs missed you
I ain't mad at you (we ain't mad at you)
Blood rushing, concussions, ain't nothing
Catch cases, come out fronting
Sipping White Russians, b***h in the Benz bumping
I laced it wit the basic
6 TV's, a system, knocking Mase s**t, face it
We hard to hit
Guard your s**t, for I stick you, for your re-up
Wipe the "P"
Mix shots, "work your seat up"
Go in the ashtray, spark the weed up
[CHORUS X 2]
UH-I flaming gats, aiming at, these f**king...
Maniacs put my name in raps--"support them"
Like they hustle backwards
I smoke backwards, and Duchees
Ya can't touch me
Try to rush me
Slugs go, touchy-touchy
You're bleeding lovely, with you, spirit above me
or beneath me, your whole life you live sneaky
Now you rest eternally, sleepy, you burn when you creep me
Rest where the worms-n-the weak be
My nine flies, baptize, rap guys
With the holy ghost
I put holes in most, you hold your toast shakey
Slip-n-trying to break me
Look what you made me do, brains blue
My team in the Marine blew, six-coupe
Skiid it out, weeded out, clean it out
The block for distance is, given long kisses b***h
[CHORUS X 2]
Frank White the menacing, craw-craw's demenacin
I got the lettuce in
You turn green like cucumber skin got the new hummer in the summer when I was a new comer
then drugs and mac-10's
Hug from fake friends
Make ends they hate you, be broke girls won't date you
That's why I relate to, choke your a.ss 'til your face blue, make you
Open the safe too
No matter how you call it (how you call it)
This "bralick", alcoholic
Like his weed green'd out like his brick solid
Distribute to kids who, take heart like Valentine, drink Valentine, all the time
Slugs hit you chest tap the spine
Heard through the grapevine, you got f**ked foe times
Damn that three to nine, f**ked you up for real doe'
"Slink steal slow"
As you remorse we feel no
|7 years ago||'05 #52|
$688 | 0
"Kick In The Door"
Welcome back. *audience applauds*
We're here on Bad Boy television, and I'm Trevin Jones
and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper.
And quite frankly -- he's very mad.
We're gonna TRY to find out why; so we'll take some questions
at this point from our studio audience.
Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name, and where you're from.
Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle
and, I just don't understand, why you so mad. (yo, yo)
Like what are you so mad about? (yo, yo, y-y-yo)
You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can't
be askin me no question knowhatI'msayin who the f**k is you?
(Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper.) YouknowhatI'msayin?
You can't be askin me no question (It's a family oriented show.)
I'ma tell you why I'm mad, youknowhatI'msayin? I'ma tell you why
I'm mad. I'ma tell you why I'm mad. These n*ggaz is makin five
hundred thousand dollar videos, yunusayin? They drivin around in
hot cars, yunusayin? They got b***hes, they got all that s**t.
(Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language.)
YouknowhatI'msayin? I'm still livin with my MOMS, youknowhatI'msayin?
That's my word. Yunusayin? I'm makin records I ain't made no money
yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my FOURTH ALBUM.
I ain't made a dime yet. This n*gga made one album, he makin wild
records. That Ready to Die s**t, it was aight, it was aight,
yunumsayin, that s**t was aight, it was cool. But my s**t is
more John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze s**t. And they not
recognizing, they not sayin I recognize. And f**k is that, who
is you to be askin me questions, youknowhatI'msayin? Who is you?
[Mad Rapper fades out]
[cut and scratched "I gots to talk. I gotta tell what I feel.
I gotta talk about my life as I see it!"]
[Intro: repeat 2X ('Biggie' repeats every line of beat)]
This goes out to you
This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you
Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that a.ss, quick fast, like ramadan
Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, f**k Poppa
You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White
in tank-light totes, tote iron
Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin
Keep extra clips for extra s**t
Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap
The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie baby
Ain't no tellin where I may be
May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin
with my man Capone, dumbin, f**kin somethin
You should know my steelo
Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
to orgies with hoes I never seen befo'
so, Jesus, get off the Notorious
p*nis, before I squeeze and bust
If the beef between us, we can settle it
With the chrome and metal s**t
I make it hot, like a kettle get
You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?
You still pedal s**t, I got more rides than Great Adventure
Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?"
[Chorus: repeat 4X]
Kick in the door, wavin the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death
Should I start your breath should I let you die
In fear you start to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick
You cursed it, but rehearsed it
I drop unexpectedly like bird s**t
You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money
Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them
Son, I'm surprised you run with them
I think they got c*m in them, cause they, nothin but d**ks
Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick
Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click
Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo b***h
I know you prayin you was rich, f**kin prick
When I see ya I'ma
This goes out for those that choose to use
Disrespectful views on the King of NY
f**k that, why try, throw bleach in your eye
Now ya Braille in it, stash that light s**t, or scalin it
Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight
Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson
Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante
You wanna get on son, you need to ask me
Ain't no other king in this rap thing
They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren
One shot, they disappearin
Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy s**t
Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied s**t
Now they on some money s**t, successful out the blue
They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly
make the white shake, thats why my money never funny
And you still recoupin, stupid [echoes]
|7 years ago||'05 #53|
$688 | 0
Who the f**k is this?
pagin me at 5:46 in the mornin crack a dawnin
now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye
see who's this pagin me and why..
It's my n*gga Pop from the barbershop
told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot
some people wanna stick you like fly paper neighbour
slow down love please chill drop the caper
remember them kidz from the hill up in Brownsville
that you rolled dice wit
smoked the blunts and got nice wit
yeah my little Fame up in Prospect
nah dem my people nah love wouldn't disrespect
I didn't say dem,
they schooled me to some n*ggas
that you knew from back when,
when you was clockin minor figures
Now they heard you blowin up like nitro
know they wanna stick the knife
through your windpipe slow..
so thank Fame for warnin me now I'm warnin you
you got the mac Biggie
tell me what you wanna do...
Damn n*ggas wanna stick me for my papers
They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus
wit the Texas license plate outta state
they heard about the pounds
you got down in Georgetown
now they heard you got half of Virginia locked down
they even heard about the crib
you bought your moms out in Florida
the fifth corridor....
Call the coroner
there's gonna be alot of slow singin
and flower bringin
if my burgular alarm starts ringin
whatcha think all the guns is for?
all purpose war got the rottweilers by the door
and I feed em gun powder so they can devour
the criminals tryin to clock my decimals
DAMN..n*ggas wanna stick my for my C.R.E.A.M.
And it ain't a dream things aint always how it seems
it's the ones that smoke blunts witcha
see your picture, now they wanna
grab they guns and come and getcha
Bethca Biggie won't slip
I got the calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
so I can rip through the ligaments
put they bodies in a bad prediciment
where all the foul n*ggas went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Buck with what I had you with
you motherf**kers betta duck
I bring pain, blood stains on what remains
Of his jacket, he had a gun he should've packed it
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
so I can reload and explode down ya ra*****e
I f**k around and get hardcore
C4 to ya door no beef no more
feel the rush scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff the more dangerous
I dont give a f**k about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you
I'm not runnin, n*gga I bust my gun in
Hold on I hear somebody comin........
|05-13-2009, 01:01 PM||#56|
smh @ n*ggas sittin around posting lyrics like we're really gonna read that s**t and suddenly change our minds..
|05-13-2009, 01:26 PM||#59|
lyrically hell yea eminem is better then biggie. but biggie ain't no slouch. i think biggie is the most bitten rapper of all time behind jay-z.
yes i know jay-z bites biggie's lyrics but there are a lot of rappers that bite jay-z's lyrics.
|05-13-2009, 01:36 PM||#60|
and MixtapeSinc... How does you being from Detroit give your opinion any more weight than anybody else's?
And those verses you posted do not impress THAT much, I've heard better, believe me. Don't think I'm trying to diss BIG, because he was talented and a great lyricist, but really... many rappers have outshined Biggie... Especially Eminem, who has outshined everybody who is claimed to be a great lyricist. Jay Z, Nas, Biggie etc... I don't think I've ever heard a rapper rhyme words like Eminem. It borders on the point of ridiculous the way he rhymes.
Big Pun is a close candidate, and lyrically, his verse on Super Lyrical destroys everything I've heard from Biggie. Too bad Pun wasn't consistent, so overall I'd put BIG above PUN. But Eminem has been consistent since the beginning, let's forget about Encore for a moment
Here's a list of rappers I'd put above Biggie, overall
Common - Be >>>>> Ready To Die
2pac - I'd rather listen to any 1 of his albums recorded while alive than either of Biggie's.
Nas - Dude hasn't been consistent as of late, or ever really, but Illmatic, It Was Written & God's Son >>>> Ready To Die... Lyrically Nas is on point most times and I'd rank him above Biggie, plus these albums are just much more enjoyable to me.
Eminem - Infinite, SSLP, MMLP and the Eminem Show are lyrically untouchable... I still haven;t heard an album outshine any of those lyrically
Immortal Technique (People trip when I say Technique, but this dude dropped one of the greatest rap songs of all time: You Never Know, which is better than any BIG song I've ever heard.
Lupe Fiasco - Dude is creative, and can rhyme his a.ss off.... definately better lyrically than Biggie...
So really, like a dude before me said, the truth just f**king hurts. Ya can't stand that a white boy mastered a predominently black music genre and bested all the supposed great lyricists. You don't have to take my word for it, buy an Eminem record, any Eminem record except for Encore, and tell me it doesn't lyrically outshine any Biggie album. You won't be able to with a straight face.
But since you wanna go verse for verse and track for track, I'll post some more lyrics for you, as if the ones I already posted didn't prove my point enough. I'm about to go overkill...