Freestyle Friday: 50 Cent vs. Rakim

My favourite rapper used to sing ch-check out my melody

’nuff said.

Follow procedures, the crowd couldn’t wait to see this
Nobody been this long awaited since Jesus
Who wouldn’t believe this – I heard the word on the street is
I’m still one of the deepest on the mic since Adidas
They said I changed the times from the rhymes that I thought of
So I made some motar to put the New World in Order
with Mathematics, put your status above the average
And help you rappers, make paragraphs with graphics
Cause new days is dawnin, new ways of peformin
Brainstormin, I write and watch the night turn to mornin
On and on and, I got the whole world respondin
Ra, I keep it hot and blow the spot without warnin
The Emperor, well known for, inventin a sentence
full of adventure, turnin up the temperature
Rush with adrenaline, how long has it been again
to be in the state of mind that Rakim is in?

As an F1 Generation hip-hop head, this is arguably the 2nd greatest verse that Ra has ever spit…which obstensibly makes it the 2nd greatest in Hip-Hop!!! The god emcee (sorry Hova, but the god has already returned) couldn’t have set the expectations or the bar regarding his comeback any better.

GGGGGGGG G-unit

50 Cent, Shady, Aftermath

The Dreamteam

We got to get the get well cards
niggas is sick

Feel this

Motion picture shit

Now don’t think I won’t hit you because I’m popular, I got P-90 Ruger to pop at ya, catch you
slipping I’m give you what I got for ya, my clip loaded with 16 shots for ya, you never had a hot gun
on ya waste and blood on your shoe because a nigga went and said the wrong shit to you, homie
you ain’t been threw what I been threw you not like me and I’m not like you.
I’m like an animal wit it when I spit it’s crazy, got semi-autos to put holes and niggas try to play me,
One shot is not enough you need at least a uzi to move me, after four bottles of don
the kid start to feeling woozy, I write my life you write what you see in gangsta movies, I’m
gangsta to the core nigga you can’t move me, I find my space at the top I got this rap shit
locked, I never heard of you you heard of me, I murder you, I spit shells to your convertible
lotis you notice Richer or poor hollow steel go through your door this is war,
you scare of me you not prepared for me the kid is back
50 cents I know you like that I know you like that.

50 Cent – “Till I Collapse”

It’s the return of the Wild Style fashionist
Smashin hits, make it hard to adapt to this
Put pizazz and jazz in this, and cash in this
Mastered this, flash this and make em clap to this
DJ’s throw on cuts and obey the crowd
Just pump the volume up, and play it loud
Hip-Hop’s embedded, before I said I wouldn’t let it
But me and the microphone is still magnetic
Straight off the top, I knew I’d be forced to rock
Dancefloors just stop, the spot’s scorchin hot
Hoping I open Rakim Allah seminars
Massage at the bar smokin ten dollar cigars
while I admire midas, with more vision than TV’s
I find it easy catchin diabetes from fly sweeties
Sit back and wait to hear a slammin track
Rockin jams by popular demand, I’m back

Rakim – Guess Who’s Back

Gonna give 50 a chance….kinda

ERIC B & RAKIM
“my melody”

So what if I’m a microphone fiend addicted soon as I sing
One of these for MC’s so they don’t have to scream
I couldn’t wait to take the mic, flow into it to test
Then let my melody play, and then the record suggest
That I’m droppin bombs, but I stay peace and calm
Any MC that disagree with me just wave your arm
And I’ll break, when I’m through breakin I’ll leave you broke
Drop the mic when I’m finished and watch it smoke
So stand back, you wanna rap? All of that can wait
I won’t push, I won’t beat around the bush
I wanna break upon those who are not supposed to
You might try but you can’t get close to
Because I’m number one, competition is none
I’m measured with the heat that’s made by sun
Whether playin ball or bobbin in the hall
I just writin my name in graffiti on the wall
You shouldn’t have told me you said you control me
So now a contest is what you owe me
Pull out your money, pull out your cut
Pull up a chair, and I’ma tear shit up
My name is Rakim Allah, and R & A stands for “Ra”
Switch it around, but still comes out “R”
So easily will I e-m-c-e-e
My repetition of words is “check out my melody”
Some bass and treble is moist, scratchin and cuttin a voice
And when it’s mine that’s when the rhyme is always choice
I wouldn’t have came to ?set? my name ?around the? same weak shit
Puttin blurs and slurs and words that don’t fit
In a rhyme, why waste time on the microphone
I take this more serious than just a poem
Rockin party to party, backyard to yard
Now tear it up, y’all, and bless the mic for the gods

ERIC B & RAKIM
“i aint no joke”

I ain’t no joke, I used to let the mic smoke
Now I slam it when I’m done and make sure it’s broke
When i’m gone no one gets on cuz I won’t let
Nobody press up and mess up to scene I set
I like to stand in a crowd and watch the people wonder damn
But think about it then you’ll understand
I’m just an addict addicted to music
Maybe it’s a habit, I gotta use it
Even if it’s jazz on the quiet storm
I hook a beat up convert it in a hip-hop form
Write a rhyme in graffitti in every show you see me in
Deep concentration cuz I’m no comedian
Jokers are wild if you wanna be tame
I treat you like a child then you’re gonna be named
Another enemy, not even a friend of me
Cuz you’ll get fried in the end if you pretend to be
Competing cuz I just put your mind on pause
And I can beat you when you compare my rhyme wit yours
I wake you up and as I stare in your face you seem stun
Remember me, the one you got your idea from
But soon you start to suffer but you only get rougher
When you start to stutter that’s when you had enuff of
Biting it, I make you choke, you can’t provoke
You can’t cope, you should of broke cuz I ain’t no joke

ERIC B & RAKIM
“microphone fiend”

I was a fiend before I became a teen
I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream
Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated
Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated
‘Cause I grabbed the mic and try to say, Yes y’all!
They tried to take it, and say that I’m too small
Cool, ‘Cause I don’t get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet
Back to the lab …without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
One after the other one, then I make another one
To dis the opposite then ask if the brother’s done
I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine
But I don’t need a cigarette, know what I mean?
I’m raging, ripping up the stage and
Don’t it sound amazing ’cause every rhyme is made and
Thought of, Cuz it’s sort of…an addiction,
Magnatized by the mixing
Vocals, vocabulary, your verses, you’re stuck in
The mic is a drano, volcanoes erupting,
Rhymes overflowing, gradually growing
Everything is written in code, so it can coin-
cide, my thoughts to guide,
48 tracks to slide
The invincible, microphone fiend Rakim
Spread the word, ’cause I’m in
E-F-F-E-C-T
A smooth operator operating correctly,
But back to the problem, I gotta habit,
You can’t solve it, silly rabbit
The prescription is a hypertone that’s thorough when
I fiend for a microphone like herion
Soon as the bass kicks, I need a fix
Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix
And I’ll put you in a mood or is it a state of
unawareness? Beware, it’s the reanamator!
A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon
An assasinator, if the people ain’t stepping
You see a part of me that you never seen
When I’m fiending for a microphone, I’m the microphone fiend…

ERIC B & RAKIM
“lyrics of fury”

Terror in the styles, never error-files,
Indeed I’m known-your exiled!
For those that oppose to be level or next to this…
I ain’t a devil and this ain’t the exorcist!
Worse than a nightmare, you don’t have to sleep a wink,
The pain’s a migraine every time ya think,
Flashbacks interfere, ya start to hear:
The r-a-k-i-m in your ear;
Then the beat is hysterical,
That makes eric go get a ax and chops the wack,
Soon the lyrical format is superior,
Faces of death remain,
Mc’s decaying, cuz they never stayed,
The scene of a crime every night at the show,
The fiend of a rhyme on the mic that you know,
It’s only one capable, breaks-the unbreakable,
Melodies-unmakable, pattern-unecscapable,
A horn if want the style I posses,
I bless the child, the earth, the gods and bomb the rest,
For those that envy a mc it can be,
Hazardous to your health so be friendly,
A matter of life and death, just like a ethch-a-sketch,
Shake ’till your clear, make it disappear, make the next,
After the ceremony, let the rhyme rest in peace,
If not, my soul’ll release!
The scene is recreated, reincarnated, updated, I’m glad you made it,
Cuz your about to see a disasterous sight,
A performance never again performed on a mic:
Lyrics of fury!

ERIC B & RAKIM
“run for cover”

Evacuate the building, danger, cuz I came to
Explain the
Strategy that’ll be tragic automatically
Havin’ me to cause another catastrophe
All you gotta do is give Rakim the
Microphone and the crowd’ll yell, Timber
Buildings collapsin’, rappers gettin’ trapped in
Areas closed off, no one gets back in
So set up roadblocks, barrIcade the doors
Fade, put a detour sign on the stage
Hold my microphone as evidence, the weapon I use
And been usin’ ever since
The days in the park when, rap was an art then
Plus I was dominant, determined and dark skinned
Makin’ it hard to walk the streets at night
For those who talk the weak beats on the mic
Whoever’s livin’ large better wear camouflage
Prepare to be bumrushed when I yell charge
Surround by sound of the beat-down another brother
This is stompin’ grounds, run for cover
Wheels or foot, better not stay put
Whole place shook till the mic’s unhooked
Then you’ve got seven minutes to vacate the
Premises
Lyrics’ll echo soon as the break finishes
Don’t act wild, single file to the door
No need for an encore, just clear the floor
Cuz my mic’s about to self destruct
The stage’ll blow up when my rhymes erupt
So make sure the place is cleared out and abandoned
Cuz minutes from now it won’t be standin’
Then send out and A.P.B. All Poets Beware of a
Brother like me
Now how many rhymes could your man manufacture?
How many bitin’ MCs can I capture?
Trap rappers who try to run off at the mouth
Take over their route, play ‘em out like a Cub
Scout
So leave troopin’ for MCs at war
And if it’s a battle let the crowd keep score
Cuz me and the drummer make drama, and that’s word
To mother, run for cover

RAKIM & CANIBUS
“ill bust em, you punish em”

Be ready and at ya best
The celebrity match of death
Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest
Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath
Then I asked the ref, “how many cats is left?”
One on one, who challenging? Come get did
All I have is a pen and punish you kids
Abdomen punctured and look what I did to his wig
Wanna live then I stab ‘em in the lung with his rib
Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine
Rematch wherever we meet at, any place anytime
Get your snot-box smashed with a 9
Smacked with a rhyme, push your forehead to the back of your mind
Try to explain what it’s like seeing your brain
Your insane, soon to be ID’ed as remains
Then I reincarnate ‘em and kill ‘em again
Again and again, again and again

RAKIM
“the saga begins”

Yo, my never-ending epic, got the world spinning hectic
I quickly spread it, till the whole city’s infected
Suspense that I supply intensify
Then commence as my daily events go by
You get involved in this, paragraphologist
Narratin novelist, market this, sound marvelous
I’m the star in this, which means the author’s authentic
Most definite, every episode’s a epidemic
So when you research, check it, here go the evidence
They represent with lyrical negligence for presidents
My science existed, without the fiction
Every inscription is a special edition

RAKIM
“guess whos back”

Yo, my rhymes and lyrics, find spirits like a seance
Since fat Cray-ons, I write and display chaos
My plan is damage, the diagram to where the jam
I take advantage, until the crowd go bananas
What a rush I hear cuts then I lust to touch
Microphones get clutched by the illustrious
Word spread I inherited, many ways to say the unsaid
Born with three 7′s in my head
In time no one can seem to blow your mind as far as this
To find you’ll need philosophers and anthropologists
Astrologists, professors from your smartest colleges
with knowledge of scholarships, when Ra be droppin this
Some of the things I know, will be in your next Bible
When I die go bury me and my notebook in Cairo
with the great God from Egypt manifest was write rhymes
align with the stars, I come back to bless the mic

Uh…
I’m on the prowl with the hammer, hardly smile at the camera
too many niggaz is dyin’, i’m spendin’ time with my grandma (geah)
a hundred grand in the safe, a hundred grand in your face
a million plus in the bank, wheels scuffing the paint (Oh!)
you handcuffin’ that bitch, she dont wanna be with you
all she want is your chips, my lil’ nigga beat it too (uh huh)
stick the heaters through, so we can party good
rare son will beat it through, brawl it out in Hollywood
the Boywonder will unravel your team
i’m TRL next to Avril Lavigne, all my carrots are green (uh)
the booda is purple (uh) be rude and i’ll hurt you (uh)
you movin’ in circles, we do it all, movies, commercials (God Damn!)
stadiums, clubs, ladies and thugs, hood and the ‘burbs
i’m on the red carpet cuz i’m good with my words
i’m ready for war, i’m stackin’ my chips
you flappin’ your lips, you niggaz ain’ even hoodrich.. (Geah!)

50 Cent “Born Alone, Die Alone”

My son ask “Daddy why carry a gun, you ain’t a cop”
Looked at him and said “Sometimes you gotta shoot or get shot”
Wanna go to show-and-tell and show the class my glock?
Show ‘em the clip
Show ‘em the beam
Show ‘em how Daddy lean
In the convertible Jag
22 inch mags
For a high school drop out, shit, that ain’t bad
I’m not a blood or a crip, I’m doing my own thang
G-UNIT
Shit, I done started my own gang
I don’t go that funny dance
I don’t throw gang signs
But I’m a gangsta to the core so I stay with a nine
Think all I do is rap, then you don’t know me good
Have Smurf hangin out the sun roof to light up your hood, man
Cause Lethal ain’t never seen Blaco comin’
But if he did .. you think he woulda started runnin?
And I move with the Doublemint Twins and two macs
And leave you flat your back
BBBRRAT
Take that

50 Cent “Bump Dat Street Mix”

I talk about my arsenal, I rap about my infantry
Them crackers they be scared of me, the hood man, they into me
YEAH! – I’m #1 on Forbes
YEAH!! – They can’t fuck witcha boy
‘tack time is crank time, I flip that, get that back
Louie V. napsack filled up with G-stacks
I’m sick in the head, me I’m all ’bout the bread
Go ‘head fuck with the kid, see it’s just what I said
See the stash, I’m makin double – makin kilos bubble
Betta stop, boy – I’ll cut U til’ ya ma don’t know you
See when we play them WARRIORS come out to play
You wanna play? Get your ass laid out today
See I’m back on the shit I was on before
So if a nigga try to stunt, we gon’ take ‘em to war

50 Cent “Crime Wave”

I TAKE SEVEN EMCEES AND PUT EM IN A LINE……..NUFF SAID

ERIC B & RAKIM
“follow the leader”

A furified freestyle, lyrics of fury
My third eye makes me shine like jewelry
You’re just a rent-a-rapper, your rhymes are minute-maid
I’ll be here when it fade to watch you flip like a renegade
I can’t wait to break and eliminate
On every traitor or snake – so stay awake
and follow and follow, because the tempo’s a trail
The stage is a cage, the mic is a third rail
I’m Rakim the Fiend of a Microphone
I’m not HIM, so leave my mic alone
Soon as the beat is felt, I’m ready to go
So fasten your seatbelt, cause I’m about to flow
No need to speed slow down to let the leader lead
Word to daddy, indeed!
The R’s a rollin stone, so I’m rollin
Directions is told, then the rhymes are stolen
Stop buggin’, a brother said, dig em, I never dug ‘em
He couldn’t follow the leader long enough so I drug ‘em
into danger zone, he should arrange his own
Face it, it’s basic, erase it, change ya tone
There’s one R in the alphabet
It’s a one-letter word and it’s about to get
More complex from one rhyme to the next
Eric B be easy on the flex
I’ve been from state to state, followers tailgate
Keep comin but you came too late, but I’ll wait
So back up, regroup, get a grip, come equipped
You’re the next contestant – clap ya hands, you won a trip!
The price is right – don’t make a deal too soon
How many notes could you name this tune?
Follow the Leader is the title, theme, task
Now ya know, you don’t have to ask
Rap is Rhythm And Poetry, cuts create sound effects
You might catch up if you follow the records E. wrecks
Until then keep eatin and swallowin
You better take a deep breath and keep followin
The leader.

ERIC B & RAKIM
“my melody”

I’m not a regular competitor, first rhyme editor
Melody arranger, poet, etcetera
Extra events, the grand finale like bonus
I am the man they call the microphonist
With wisdom which means wise words bein spoken
Too many at one time watch the mic start smokin
I came to express the rap I manifest
Stand in my way and I’ll lead a ??? words protest
MC’s that wanna be dissed they’re gonna
Be dissed if they don’t get from in fronta
All they can go get is me a glass of Moet
A hard time, sip your juice and watch a smooth poet
I take 7 MC’s put em in a line
And add 7 more brothas who think they can rhyme
Well, it’ll take 7 more before I go for mine
And that’s 21 MC’s ate up at the same time
Easy does it, do it easy, that’s what I’m doin
No fessin, no messin around, no chewin
No robbin, no buyin, bitin, why bother
This slob’ll stop tryin fightin to follow
My unusual style will confuse you a while
If I was water, I flow in the Nile
So many rhymes you won’t have time to go for your’s
Just because of a cause I have to pause
Right after tonight is when I prepare
To catch another sucka duck MC out there
Cos my strategy has to be tragedy, catastrophe
And after this you’ll call me your majesty
My melody…

ERIC B & RAKIM
“to the listeners”

I’m the Lord, for somethin you can absorb
Try and control and be cautious but the cut’s in a cord
Make me deeper than down, I make the crowd, crowd around
People are peepless, cause the soloist found
Phrases, thoughts, made by the R of course
One thing I do is keep em different, and far from yours
You keep talkin, when will all the damage be done?
You say you’re rulin but when I’m in the place you don’t come
Maybe you’re waitin, to see what I’m makin
One more style gets taken, then I’ma be breakin
If the patterns are causes, piano is soft
But make it hard for you to start, where I left off
You find yourself, till the point is across
You hit reverse to rewind it, that’s when you hit the pause
I set the scene, first you hear mixin
Then the microphone fiend’s in effect, still listenin?
Pay close attention, never before mentioned
Listen up I got a brand new invention
Made from a musician it’s notes are played crisp
But listeners listen to what I wrote on a disc
Copywritten but still bitten they almost sound like
Almost pumpin, but it ain’t down like
A record’s supposed to sound, watch as it go around
Records are broken, smashed into the ground
That ain’t My Melody, brothers keep runnin up and tellin me
Others are trying to flow smooth and steadily
Potholes are left in my path then I crash and bruise
Whoever refuse and cruise right past em
Cause I just left to do it for easy whatever
Death, till I get back you better stay in step
After speaking you’ll stare, if I was there your description is
Letters full of poetical medicine, this is for the listeners

These cats always
Escape reality when they rhyme
That’s why they write about bricks
An’ only dealt with dimes
Leave it to them
An’ they say they got a fast car
Nascar
Truck with a crash bar
An’ TV’s in the dash, Pa
See them in the five
Wit’ stock rims
I just laugh, Pa
I catch stunts
When I ain’t tryin’
I ain’t lyin’
I sip Don P ’til I spit up
Keep my wrist lit up
Get out of line
I’ll get you hit up
Now if you say my name
In your rhymes
You better watch what you say
You get carried away
You could get shot
An’ carried away
Now here’s a list of MC’s
That could kill you in eight bars
50, ummm….
Jay-Z and Nas
I’ma say this shit now
An’never again
We ain’t buddies
We ain’t partners
An’ we damn sure ain’t friends
The games you playin’
You get killed like that
Actin’ like you all hard
You ain’t built like that
See me, when you see me nigga
What! What!

50 Cent “Life’s On The Line” – aka “Nobody Likes Me”

Yeah
I gave Just a buck-fifty, ask him if I cut niggaz
Shootouts in Bedford, ask them if I bucked niggaz
In four-fifth they call me Boo Boo, the accident baby
Hennessy and cocaine helped to grime me and make me
My eyes don’t cry, I’m a fatherless child
Got my ass whooped in Spofford but never that now
When my name in your mouth, you better watch how you talk
I’ll send yo’ punk ass to therapy to learn how to walk
I bust a clip, I’ll hit ya hip, I’m takin your shit
Thats how the Esses play, for that SSK
Your probably heard through the grapevine, I’m good out in Watts
Bulletproof shit, cruisin through them Compton blocks
I’m the beast from the East, but I play on the West
In the drop by myself with my nine and my vest
And you niggaz best be on yo’ best behaviors
I was bred for this shit, front on me I’ma blaze ya

50 Cent “Curtis 187”

@jigsaw..never heard the song but on wordplay alone..im guessin “ill shaw shank you”

I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder
When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger?
When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder
In December I’ll make your block feel like summer
The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine
Every chick I fuck with is a dime
I’m like Patty LaBelle, homie, I’m on my own
Where I lay my hat is my home, I’m a rolling stone
Cross my path I’ll crush ya – thinking I won’t touch ya
I’ll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches
Industry hoe fuckers, in the hood they love us
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new Chuckers

50 Cent “What Up Gangsta?”

[50 Cent]
R.I.P B.I.G, R.I.P P-A-C, R.I.P enough of that, shit, it’s time to OD
Aiyyo the bottom line is I’ma crook with a deal
If my record don’t sell I’ma rob and steal
You better recognize nigga I’m straight from the street
These industry niggaz startin to look like somethin to eat
I’ll snatch Kim and tell Puff, “You wanna see her again?”
Get your ass down to the nearest ATM
I have dreams of fuckin an R&B bitch
And I’ll wake up early and bounce with all your shit
When I apply pressure,son it aint even funny
I’m about to stick Bobby for some of that Whitney money
Brian McKnight, I can get that nigga anytime
Have Keith sweatin starin down the barrel from my nine
Since these Harlem World niggaz seem to all be fam
I put the gun to Cardan tell him, “Tell your man
Mason Betha, haha, come up of that watch now
I mean right now”
The only excuse for being broke is bein in jail
An entertainer can’t make bail if he broke as hell
I’d rob ODB but that’d be a waste of time
Probably have to clap him run and toss the nine
I’d follow Fox in the drop for four blocks
Plottin to juice her for that rock Kurupt copped
What Jigga just sold like 4 mil? He got somethin to live for
Don’t want no nigga puttin four thru that Bentley Coupe door
I’ll man handle Casã like “Duke get on the ground”
You ain’t with Mary no more where gettin chips from now?
I been skeamin on Tone and Poke since they found me
Steve know not to wear that platinum shit around me
I’m a klepto nah for real son I’m sick
I’m bout to stick Slick Rick for all that old school shit
Right now I’m bent and when I get like this I don’t think
About to make Stevie J take off that tight ass mink
I’ll rob Pun without a gun snatch his piece then run
This nigga weigh 400 pounds, how he gon catch me son?

“how to rob”
btw 50 cent is a clown…

ERIC B & RAKIM
“keep em eager to listen”

Opponents are found paralyzed from the mic down
Left with a little sight ears still hear the sound
Try to clear your mind but it’s still there
Give him about a year, then give him a wheelchair
I damage and deteriorate, til your brain dead
No huss cuss what I discuss’ll bust his head
Here’s some hearin aids when your eardrums fail
You get scars, so you could read it in braille
Close your third eye, then I do body work
And I keep the same procedure til somebody’s hurt
My DJ’ll sew up cuts like an M.D.
And I still move crowds like an M.C.
Entertain and tear you out of your frame
Leave you in a puddle of blood, then let it rain
Then I get deep, so try to withstand
on my level to think, or sink like quicksand
He couldn’t hang, so I cut the rope short
Watchin em fall, cause they need more support
This is the way that I done, all of my competition
Peep em, as I, keep em eager to listen

C-Villian, my bad!

HALFTIME..lol

props jigsaw

PEACE

GOMAB!!!

Just when I think I’m out – they drag me back in…

I got a gambling problem, i bet you niggas I’m a be back bustin
but you won’t notice me when that gat dumpin, you wana bet?
I lost money when i bet on Roy, won money when i bet on Floyd,
I’m the one that bet on war
Undefeated, eyes roll like i’m weeded
I Bet you niggas think i won’t be number 1 again,
I read the stakes, you know why i put mo’ on the line
Its showtime i’m goin for my mine,
you can bet that,i bet that tec jam before that mac,
i bet that dope go before that crack, i bet my money stack
I bet yo bitch wana roll with 50, i bet if i said i’m going to the hotel she’d go with me,
i bet you really love her man you think she wouldn’t come,
she got your pussy wooped
her head game, it got you sprung
I’m taking all bets, through all sets i be a bookie
that have to be 10% off the top, fucking rookies.

50 Cent “What Do You Got”

ERIC B & RAKIM
“set em straight”

Somebody said I set em up and pulled the plug on em
But instead I let em go on so I could bug on em
Go ‘head and flow, cause I close the show
Swing a song for the ladies and rhyme real slow
For instance.. once I commence..
.. the crowd is convinced
So now you know who to put your money on
Hurry up, before your money’s gone
Cause I’m the most common denominator
Orchestrate a rhyme much greater
I’m like a world almanac, so tell the media
Givin em information like encyclopedia
So bring a dictionary, so you can look it up
so you know what I mean, when I hook it up
No misconceptions although I complicate
but this concept’ll set em straight
They even said that I was locked in jail
So now I guess I’m out on bail?
The only Island I was on was the Strong one
And if I did my bid, it’ll be a long one
Cause if I sold weight, I’d be upstate
in the penile, waitin for a brake
Cause sellin drugs is for handicaps
I got too many skills besides bustin rough raps
If I go to jail, it won’t be for sellin ki’s
It’ll be for muderin MC’s
The beat’ll take over your heart, then I start
to cut em in half, cause rhymes are razor sharp
Secure the exits, all MC’s remain
Cause we got a crowd to entertain
And I know, when I go, I’ll flow dangerous
Brain’sll bust, what you tryin to explain to us?
You got lost, and couldn’t go on
Came up short, so here’s one to grow on
Elevate off a high IQ
In time, you’ll find I’m true
Cause once I start on a piece of art
from sun to moon and light to dark I build the Ark
Now you can float off the rhymes I wrote
I’m sure that we’ll hit shore without a boat
You could bring a battleship and still get shipwrecked
Attacked with a torpedo, what did you expect?
Driftin up the creek, without a beat or a paddle
Castaway on a raft and stand fragile
Rescue your crowd, which ain’t a hard job
Me and my knowledge put together, I’m a lifeguard
Dealin with actual facts it sold out fat
here and now, but I go so far back
to bring you up to date, so we can elevate
It’s no time to wait, or anticipate
Cause I’m never late, I’m gonna motivate
So I can let em brake, and set em straight

rakim – new york (ya out there)

Aiyyo, once upon a rhyme where the scenery sets, you see stress
Streets a matter of life and death, no regrets
Life’s a test, strife, wit special effects
Neighbourhood’s full of reps, cities are projects
Where the young cadets get stripes from the vets
And comrades quest to be the next, to finess
Collect debts and select bets with death threats
Object – chedder, better your total net
Where trends are set from ways to express the outfits
Friends get wet tryin’ to make ends connect
Avenues to check, boulevards to sweat
The smell of gunsmoke more common than cigarettes
We got clicks for wreck
We like pits for pets
We got giants and jets, the knicks, yanks and mets
We like much respect and sex extra wet
And high-tech dialect you ain’t catch yet

its unfair cuz 50 is garbage why would they even compare the two

That one verse that was posted from the song Born Alone Die Alone was a verse from Lloyd Banks. It was on 50s GRODT Soundtrack, but 50 didnt spit that verse

[Rakim]
Be ready and at your best, the +Celebrity+ +Match+ of +Death+
Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest
Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath
Then I asked the ref, “How many cats is left?”
One on one, who challengin? Come get did
All I have is a pen and punish you kids
Abdomen punctured and look what I done to his wig
Wanna live then I stab ‘em in the lung with his rib
Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine
Rematch wherever we meet at, any place anytime
Get your snot-box smashed with a nine, smacked with a rhyme
Push your forehead to the back of your mind
Try to explain, what it’s like seein your brain
Your insane, whose gonna ID the remains?
And then I reincarnate ‘em, and kill ‘em again
Again and again, again and again, c’mon