I got a girl and she treat me fine,
But the homies all think that I’m losin’ my mind.
I’m trippin’ and I know it cause I’m all nerved up,
Cause everytime I go to sleep, I see this big ol’ butt.
See, I ain’t never gave no chick 4 stars,
But she treat me so good that she be drivin my car.
And every day it get better, I can’t lie,
Went to the house and she made me some hot potato pie.
All my friends be sayin, “She ain’t nothin but a scrub!”
But she make me feel high like I’m hooked on drugs.
So I give her what she need, and what’s done is done,
But I’m a special kind of fool but ayo, it don’t bother me none.
I can’t help myself, I know that I’m trippin’,
But she got it goin’ on like Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Pimp C, “Use Me Up,” from UGK’s Too Hard to Swallow, 1992
You and your friends…always together,
No time for the B-I-G, so I’m O-U-T.
The sex was great, but the headaches I can’t take.
I think I made a very big mistake.
Notorious B.I.G., “Buddy X (Remix),” from Neneh Cherry’s Homebrew, 1992
I go to Queens for queens to get the crew from Brooklyn,
Make money in Manhattan and never been tooken.
Go Uptown and the Bronx to boogie down,
Get strong on the Island, recoup, and lay around.
Rakim, “Juice (Know the Ledge),” from Eric B. & Rakim’s Don’t Sweat the Technique, 1992
You little cream puff Mac Daddy wannabe,
Keep dreaming cause a Mac you will never be.
So all y’all with the Dr. Seuss riddles,
You can get the finger…the middle
I’m givin’ more flat lines to niggas than loose-leaf.
Kool G. Rap, “Go For Your Guns,” from Kool G. Rap and DJ Polo’s Live and Let Die, 1992
You got game like me? I doubt it.
They say pimping ain’t easy…what’s so hard about it?
A.G., “Fat for the 90’s,” from Lord Finesse’s Return of the Funky Man, 1992
Back as kids we used to kiss when we played truth or dare,
Now she’s more sophisticated, highly edu-ma-cated
Not at all over-rated…I think I need a prayer
To get in her boots, and it looks rather dry,
I guess a twinkle in her eye is just a twinkle in her eye.
Although she’s crazy steppin’, I’ll try to stop her stride,
‘Cause I won’t have no more of this passin’ me by.
Slim Kid Tre, “Passin Me By,” from The Pharcyde’s Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde, 1992
New York, New York is where we live and we’re thorough,
Never taking shorts, ‘cause Brooklyn’s the borough.
Peace to Uptown, to Queens and The Bronx,
Long Island and Jersey get as fly as they want.
But I must tell you, where we rest is no joke…
So let me break it down to sections for you slow pokes:
Fort Greene, Bed-Stuy, Flatbush, Brownsville,
Crown Heights and East New York will be down till,
Medina takes respect for the styles we bring,
‘Cause in Brooklyn we be into our own thing.
Guru, “The Place Where We Dwell,” from Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
Next time you see a brother down
Stop and pick him up,
Cause you might be the next one stuck.
Grand Puba, “Mind Your Business,” Ya Know How It Goes 12", 1992
Telling my business to kids I don’t even know,
You’re like a daytime talk show…and that’s low.
Guru, “Take it Personal,” from Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
I don’t like a girl that be hanging with a slut crew,
I can’t sport a female who’s crossed-eyed with a buck tooth.
I need a female I can sport when I’m outdoors.
I’m not choosy…I got a rep to look out for.
Lord Finesse, “I Like My Girls With a Boom,” Return of the Funky Man, 1992
L is the rebel type, I’m rough as a metal pipe,
Fuck a Benz, cause I can pull skins on a pedal bike.
Big L, “Represent,” from Showbiz & A.G.’s Runaway Slave, 1992. Happy Bornday Big L, Rest in Peace.
Deja vu, tell you what I’m gonna do,
When they reminisce over you, my God.
CL Smooth, “They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.),” from Pete Rock and CL Smooth’s Mecca and the Soul Brother, 1992
There oughta be laws against you yappin’ your jaws.
Guru, “Take it Personal,” from Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
And how ‘bout the non-blunt rollin’ females
That always fucks it up ’cause they don’t wanna break their Lee nails?
Redman, “How to Roll a Blunt,” Whut, Thee Album?, 1992
She’s not impressed by your fancy car.
She got a body so she’s snotty and she don’t care who you are.
So don’t get mad and dis her reputation
Callin’ her a floozy, any conversation.
Mad grammar, backstabber, girls they wanna be her.
But like Stevie Wonder, none of y’all can see her!
Positive K, “A Flower Grows in Brooklyn,” The Skills Dat Pay Da Bills, 1992
I seen her in the subway, on my way to Brooklyn.
“Hello, good lookin, is this seat tooken?”
On the A Train, pickin at her brain,
I couldn’t get her number, I couldn’t get her name.
I said, “I still like your style and fashion,
But I hate your hot sadiddy attitude wit a passion.
Is it because brothers like to hawk a lot?
Is it because your sign don’t talk a lot?”
She turned away, no play, I said, “OK,
You don’t really look good, I hope you have a bad day.”
Rakim, “What’s On Your Mind,” from Eric B. & Rakim’s Don’t Sweat the Technique, 1992
Yo, you don’t think you’re going under?
I got a bullet with your name, your address, and your phone number.
Kool G. Rap, “Death Threat,” from Brand New Heavies’ Heavy Rhyme Experience, Vol. 1, 1992
I once caught a bid, I never hit skid,
Never date a girl if the girl got a kid.
Nahhh…papa’s got a brand new bag
And I never hit skinz once they sag.
Grand Puba, “Who Makes the Loot?” from Brand New Heavies’ Heavy Rhyme Experience Vol. 1, 1992
I call you once…you never dialed back.
Twice…you never dialed back.
Saturday morning, live, I’m on Soul Train, talkin’ to Don Cornelius.
Saturday night, my phone rings…
Saturday night, I won’t answer.
Saturday night, my phone rings again…
Saturday night, I don’t answer.
Kool Keith, “Stop Jockin Me,” from Ultramagnetic MC’s
Funk Your Head Up, 1992.
Donald Cortez “Don” Cornelius (September 27, 1936 – February 1, 2012) Rest in peace.
According to Guru (RIP): “Streetwise poetry and turntable wizardry.”- from “Flip the Script,” off of Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go.
We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window:
“Up, up, and away cause I don’t play, clown,
Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down.”
I’m hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes,
But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues.
Kool G. Rap, “Ill Street Blues,” from Kool G. Rap and DJ Polo’s Live and Let Die, 1992
Don’t get offended, there’s no need for insecurity,
Age is but a number, it’s all about maturity.
Chi-Ali, “Age Ain’t Nothing But a #,” The Fabulous Chi-Ali, 1992
You gotta school these young macks comin’ up today…
I mean to be ‘frank’, they just hot dogs,
The girls are relish, and they need to catchup on they pimpin’.
Big Daddy Kane, “Nightshift,” from Positive K’s The Skills Dat Pay Da Bills, 1992
I like my pockets fat, not flat.
Showbiz, “Diggin’ in the Crates,” from Showbiz & A.G.’s Soul Clap EP, 1992
I once lost a bill betting on the Red Sox,
…But that’s another topic.
Diamond D., “K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple Stupid),” Stunts, Blunts & Hip-Hop, 1992
You want ass? The cash is first.
You got dead presidents, baby, I got a hearse in my purse.
Roxanne Shanté, “Trick or Treat,” The Bitch Is Back, 1992
When I went to school I carried lunch in a bag
With an apple for my teacher ‘cause I knew I’d get a kiss.
Always got mad when the class was dismissed.
Romye, “Passin Me By,” from The Pharcyde’s Bizarre Ryde II the Pharcyde, 1992
My experience oughta learn ya:
That if a nigga ain’t trying to smoke ya, a bitch trying to burn ya.
DJ Quik, “Trust No Bitch,” from Penthouse Players Clique’s Paid the Cost, 1992
He doesn’t even suit ya, and he’s surely not your size,
I’m surprised that you slept on a heart that’s worldwide.
Slim Kid Tre, “Otha Fish,” from The Pharcyde’s Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde, 1992
And I’m telling you now the frustration
The future’s facing from the anger in the nation.
Now I got my new girl, or as I say my baby doll,
But I’m still gettin’ crazy calls, my ex-girl’s got balls…
So much anger built inside…
So don’t stop to say ‘Hi,’ muthafucka just die.
Lil’ Dap, “I’m the Man,” from Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
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.
Ya see I’m Irish, but I’m not a leprechaun.
You wanna fight, then step up and we’ll get it on!
Everlast, “Top ‘O The Morning to Ya,” from House of Pain’s self-titled album, 1992
Whether two birds of a feather fly or fall, it’ll be together.
Rap is an art, you can’t own no loops.
It’s how you hook ‘em up and the rhyme style, troop.
So don’t even think you could say someone bit
Off your weak beat, come on, you need to quit.
Guru, “Take it Personal,” from Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
Life’s a bitch, who are we to judge each other?
I know I got faults, I ain’t the only muthafucka.
– Guru, “No Shame in my Game,” from Gang Starr’s Daily Operation, 1992
I’m so def, I need a hearing aid with an equalizer.
Big L, “Yes You May (Remix),” 1992
You know, I used to be a player…flygirl-layer and a heartbreaker,
Lovemaker, backbreaker, but then I made a mistake.
Yes, I fell in love with this ill chick,
Sweatin’ me for money, my name and the dilsnick.
My homeboys told me drop her cause it would be to my benefit;
She used to say I’d better quit hanging with those derelicts.
Guru, “Ex Girl to the Next Girl,” from Gang Starr’s
Daily Operation, 1992.
More from Guru…
I bake your ass like a cake and all y’all flakes get frosted.
Brothers ain’t shit,
So don’t honk your horn, keep rolling.
No, I don’t wanna ride cause the shit might be stolen.
Anyway, I know your number:
You got a ‘Gas, Grass or Ass’ sticker on your bumper.
Nah baby, I’m not gonna be able to do it,
I tried to take you serious before, and you blew it.
You figured you was slick, dissin me for the next man,
But when you heard he had a wife, it ruined your plans.
Now you wanna come back and act like it’s all that?
But I ain’t tryin to hear it, cause you sound real wack.
You got it over the first time, but that was the last time;
I’ll never make the same mistake again in a lifetime.
Sugar Ray, “Not Gonna Be Able To Do It,” from Double XX Posse’s Put Ya Boots On, 1992
I never had real friends ‘til now…
I never had to steal ends cause that’s foul.
I walk the streets with the baseball bat feelin’ secure,
But I try not to incite fights–that’s immature.
Del the Funky Homosapien, “Eye Examination,” from
the Dr. Bombay 12″, 1992.
More from D-E-L…
Now there she goes again, the dopest Ethiopian,
And now the world around me be gets movin in slow motion
Whenever she happens to walk by, why does the apple of my eye
Overlook and disregard my feelings no matter how much I try?
Fat Lip, “Passin’ Me By,” from The Pharcyde’s Bizarre Ride II The Pharcyde, 1992
A friend with weed is a friend indeed,
Word to the stem, word to the seed.
Tony D, “Higher,” from Crusaders for Real Hip-Hop’s Déja Vu – It’s ‘82, 1992.
I guess it’s true what they say:
When you’re too far gone, ain’t no turning back.
And coming from the Compton, mack, that’s a fuckin’ fact.
MC Eiht, “N 2 Deep,” from Compton’s Most Wanted’s Music to Drive-By, 1992
I’ll never understand why a wack rapper tries and
Convinces himself that his image is so fly and
That’s the type of crap you know I’m not buying…
Chumps lack the beats and their rhymes don’t apply.
Guru, “Much Too Much (Mack a Mil),” from Gang Starr’s
Daily Operation, 1992.
More from Guru…
Chop suey don’t do me no good,
I gotta have corn beef and cabbage if I wanna manage.
I never eat pig, but I’ll fuck up a potato,
I’m not a dago, but pasta’s all that.
Everlast, “Danny Boy,” from House of Pain’s self-titled debut, 1992
You can’t tell a motherfucker what to do with his life,
Niggaz tend to live trife…so I react with the mic.
Girls, don’t run that shit that beauty’s only skin deep,
Cause I don’t want no girl with a Brillo face,
Or the type that’ll leave Jheri Curl juice on my pillow case.
Tried to put shame in my game to make a name,
I’mma put it on a bullet…put it in your brain.
Brooklyn: the home of the black and the beautiful.
For a rough rap sound, ain’t a place more suitable.
The place I’m from, Santa don’t leave gifts.
In my house, Santa only shoplifts.
Holidays in the hood ain’t no motherfuckin joke,
When people all around you is starving and broke.
Cause if you black and poor, it’s hell;
You only hear gunshots, you never hear bells.
So if you got a way out, then go
Cause it ain’t no fun with Christmas in the ghetto.
TRU, “Christmas In Da Ghetto,” West Coast Bad Boyz: High of Xmas, 1992