Daily rap quotes about life, love and wisdom.
Took two drags off the blunts, and started breaking down the flag:
The blue is for the Crips, the red is for the Bloods,
The whites for the cops, and the stars come from the clubs
Or the slugs that ignite, through the night,
By the dawn early light, why is sons fighting for the stripe?
I ain’t Mary, so ain’t a damn thing Poppin’.
My hustle’s the play,
That means the hood is a stage.
Been rehearsing for days…
Don’t ask for a cig’ – I’m so self-centered, I won’t even share this cancer.
Now that Bin Laden dead, can we get our civil liberties back?
That George Bush stole with the Patriot Act?
You only get honest expression when I spit in your ear;
That means even when I’m dissing you I’m being sincere.
If wonder if I blasted a little Elvis Presley.
Would they pull me over and attempt to arrest me?
I doubt, doubt it, they’ll probably start dancin,
Jumpin on my dick and pissin in they pants and
Wiggle and then jiggle and grab on they pelvis
But you know my name, so you never hear no Elvis.
The world is kinda cold and the rhythm is my blanket.
I’m like Demerol…
No disrespect to the Jacksons, but I kill mics.
You need a bad operation.
Gimme the scissors, hammer, flame.
Pass me the scalpel, I’ll make an incision,
I’ll cut off the part of your brain that does the bitching…
Classical slap-stick rappers need Chapstick.
I got a voodoo doll every time I pen a verse:
Not only do they say they feel it, but they say it hurts.
But some find happiness while others find sorrow,
And what’s here today, may be gone tomorrow.
Peep what I wrote;
You bit so hard, I thought your shit was a quote.
There’s a whole lot of questions that really need answers
Like: Who the fuck told you that your rhyme style was hot?
You know when Biggie died? Who bust that shot?
Why is Sammy Bull still living, and where the fuck is Pac?
I’m not a ‘Businessman,’ I’m a Business… man! Let me handle my business, damn!
‘Yo I’m from Africa’
Boy you’re just a faker.
Name one city: ‘Uhh, Jamaica!’
Wrong! And I think that’s a shame,
An African look with an American name…
Too bad your inner sheep never forgets to follow…
Bullets ain’t racial, kid…they only hate you.
If you are not performing fellatio for radio rotation,
What’s the ratio for radio play at your station?
If you’re not paying to play, the record is dead.
Puts a whole new spin on ‘Radio-head’
I don’t wanna dance, baby girl, it’s like my legs is on strike.
I’d rather be dead than watch wack shit.
Color me gone, fill in the dirt, tell ‘em i kicked
10 buckets…
You can plan a pretty picnic but you can’t predict the weather, Ms. Jackson.
Rhyme to kill, rhyme to murder, rhyme to stomp,
Rhyme to ill, rhyme to romp,
Rhyme to smack, rhyme to shock, rhyme to roll,
Rhyme to destroy anything, toy boy.
On the microphone:
I’m Poppa Large, big shot on the East Coast.
Imagine peace on this earth when there’s no grief,
Imagine grief on this earth when there’s no peace.
Think, just blink and I made…a million rhymes.
Just imagine if you blinked…a million times.
Damn, I’d be paid…I got it made.
We was sneakin’ in and it was general admission,
Now we ownin’ the arena and decidin’ who allowed in it.
Day in and day out we do the same thing,
Tryina find the joy in our repetition.
Always complainin’ about the routine and the mundane.
But let me stop to remind y’all bout one thing:
Come hell or high water you can count on the sun
Always shinin’ in its untamed glory.
Don’t underestimate me when you date me,
Got my clamp off safety, that’ll make you hate me…
Ya see I’m Irish, but I’m not a leprechaun.
You wanna fight, then step up and we’ll get it on!
Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out,
Till my legs give out, can’t shut my mouth,
Till the smoke clears out – am I high? Perhaps.
Imma rip this shit, till my bones collapse.
I use a pick in my hair without force.
You use a lawn mower–you got peat moss.
Yo, you 14-carat gold slum computer wizard,
Tappin’ inside my rap vein causes blizzards!
Now who done passed you a diaper and got you thinkin’ you the shit?
I seen her on the ave, spotted her more than once.
Ass so fat that you could see it from the front…
I smoked with a lot of college students…
Most of em wasn’t graduatin, and they knew it.
Run from the police, picture that,
Nigga I’m too fat…
I fuck around and catch a asthma attack.
So let me explain the game,
Break it down a couple of levels like Tetris:
These young uns kill they own blood for a necklace,
Leave ya slumped over the wheel of ya Lexus,
Smoke kush, wake up and eat breakfast…
…what the fuck you expect?
I won’t hesitate to detonate, I’m short fused.
You never question when you get the blessings,
So don’t get vexed when your life is stressed.
The 808 kick drum makes the girlies get dumb,
We’re rollin’ Rainier, and the jealous wanna get some.
Every time we do the sucka MC’s wanna battle,
I’m the man they love to hate, the J.R. Ewing of Seattle…
You ask me, “Did I like Arsenio?”
About as much as the Bicentennial.
Mindless violence, well let me try to paint it.
Here’s the 5 steps in hopes to explain it:1, It’s me and my Nation against the World
2, Then me and my Clan against the Nation
3, Then me and my Fam against the Clan
4, Then me and my Brother, we no hesitation
Go against the Fam until they cave in
5, Now who’s left in this deadly equation?That’s right, it’s me against my Brother
Then we point a Kalashnikov
And kill one another.
I’d rather be broke and have a whole lot of respect.
It’s the principle of it.
Some is sniffin’, and some is buffin’.
Some is riffin’, some ain’t sayin nothin’,
But my pockets I am stuffin’.
Huffin’ puffin’, blow the house down,
Nice and Smooth is in your town…
Squeeze the juice out,
Of all the suckers with power.
And pour some back out,
So as to water the flowers.
This world is ours.
Tell the truth:
James Brown was old,
Til Eric B. and Rakim came out with ‘I Got Soul.’
Be grateful for blessings,
Don’t ever change, keep your essence.
The power is in the people and politics we address.
My rhymes make niggas rebuild like water damage…
My music, you either fight, fuck, or dream to it…
La-Di-Da-Di, we likes to party
We don’t cause trouble, we don’t bother nobody.
We’re just some men that’s on the mic,
And when we rock up on the mic
We rock the mic, right!
Move over just a bit to the right of me,
For I cannot see
Where the booty is.
Satisfaction, I have the right tactics…
And if you need em I got crazy prophylactics.
You can hear the seven sins
Blowin’ through the ghetto wind…
I get physical, mystical, very artistical…
Giving party people something funky to listen to.
They tell me ‘find God’ like I don’t know where He at.
And if He lost, then why we followin’ Him?
Just acknowledge the fact that a Father exists,
And a Devil’s alive…I’m just caught in the mix.
Said she loved my necklace, started relaxin’.
Now that’s what the fuck I call a chain reaction!
I would trade my existence to give you breath,
Guess the only guarantees in this life is death.
As I look around seein’ I’m the last one left,
And the things I can’t change I just gotta accept.
Dial the seven digits, call up Bridgette,
Her man’s a midget.
Plus she got friends, yo, I can dig it.
Gun pop off like the mouth of Ann Coulter…
I got you open like supermarkets!
One step at a time, a man walked on the moon.
One record got played, Kool Herc said, ‘Boom!’
We in the 25th hour,
It’s now or never.
We gotta get it ‘fore it’s gone forever.
In the end, time waits for no man…
What’s your plan?
I never let the worst things in life get the best of me.
So take these testes and, ummm…open sesame.
Street’s disciple, my raps are trifle.
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle.
Now if I worry too much about all my have nots,
I might not recognize just what I’ve got…
See, my Mom chose dope, my Pop chose the pipe.
So I rhyme like a triple beam balance in life.
Now my helmet’s on, you can’t tell me I’m not in space.
I believe in heaven more than hell, lessons more than jail.
In the ghetto, let love prevail with a story to tell.
My eyes see the glory, and well,
The world waiting for me to yell, “I Have A Dream!”
Every day is like a blank canvas,
Carving my initials in the planet like I brand it.
Hand-picked to live this life we take for granted,
Like a child with an upright bass, we can’t stand it.
I didn’t get turned on, I just got turned.
I wasn’t as aroused as I was concerned.
You’re out of luck like two dogs stuck.
I’m on some satanic shit, strictly.
Little kids be wakin up cryin, yellin,
‘Mommy, Big L is comin to get me!’
Raw I’mma give it to ya, with no trivia.
Raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia.
The truth is easier when you leavin’ it out.
Like when you “5 minutes away” but you’re just leavin your house?
I never live alone,
I never walk alone.
My posse’s always ready
And they’re waitin’ in my zone.
Let’s travel at magnificent speeds around the universe
What could you say as the Earth gets further and further away
Planets are small as balls of clay
Astray into the Milky Way, world’s outasight
Far as the eye can see, not even a satellite
Now stop and turn around and look
As you stare in the darkness, your knowledge is took!
So keep starin’ soon you suddenly see a star
You better follow it, cause it’s the R.
It’s a new year, new year, new money, money!
Funny how the love be fake…but I ain’t stressin’.
Thankful for the love that’s genuine…appreciate the blessin’.
If you got time to give, I got time to think…
See, it could all change in one eye blink.
Stop tryin to be loud as me, cause you can’t do that,
Think about it…playing Russian roulette with an automatic!
I’m the epitome of catchin’ wreck, catch you when you cash your check
Smash you when you pass, then jack you for your fuckin’ Lex
I never boned a honey that I didn’t like
I never saw a mile that I couldn’t hike
I never had a spliff to make me choke
I never had a pocket that was broke
It’s Christmas time and my rhyme’s steady bumpin.
Everybody happy, hair still nappy,
Gonna steal a gift for my old grandpappy…
Whether two birds of a feather fly or fall, it’ll be together.
I’m from back then, bro, when the phrase was “fresh.”
…When Michael Jackson’s nose looked like KRS.
I’m hooked on gin and tonics like your mama’s Hooked on Phonics
You ain’t a gangsta, you a bitch with a beat.
Flows that go against the grain with a story so compellin’
I should mind The People’s Court, snatch the mic from Doug Llewellyn
Nigga this is personal, you can’t get no whiff of this
I rolled this shit myself and Imma smoke it til the end of it
Some people learn from mistakes and don’t repeat them,
Others try to block the memories and just delete them.
But I keep ‘em as a reminder they’re not killing me,
And I thank God for teaching me humility.
Son, remember when you fight to be free
To see things how they are and not how you like em to be.
Cause even when the world is falling on top of me,
Pessimism is an emotion, not a philosophy.
Knowing what’s wrong doesn’t imply that you right,
And it’s another when you suffer to apply it in life.
But I’m no rookie…
And I’m never gonna make the same mistake twice, pussy.
When I die, bury me butt naked and face down in the grass
So I can fuck the world while y’all kiss my ass
Dyin’ ain’t the shit, but it’s pleasant.
There are few things that’s forever, my lady.
We can make war or make babies.
We got hookers with heaters that’ll stray pop and put more shells in your top than Adidas.
I had to travel light speed to dodge that black cloud
Rainin’ on my parade.
Sun shinin’ but there ain’t enough shade.