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Lyric Riffs

  
Apr 30, 2016

Woke up at mom’s house around noon/Heard breakfast cooking/Television on the news/Head towards the kitchen, eggs and fried pork/Graffiti writer killed

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The Aesop Rock produced beat comes blazing in like wildfire creating a hazy smokescreen that funnels the attention towards the lyrics. It’s laced with violent undertones; involving a graffiti writer, a gruesome murder and a case of mistaken identity. Blueprint is a master storyteller and this serves as a tease for a forthcoming album. A movie trailer of sorts that hints at a larger narrative.


  
Apr 30, 2016

She my rock bottom like last offers/Wouldn’t write me off like the last offer/Even though she a bomb scare/I’m standing right here/I’m right here

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Yet another example of De La’s timelessness, a bonus track that could easily be a lead single. The beat dances like a ping pong ball but never gets too far ahead of itself leaving just enough space for some hijinks. The focus is on the ladies and while De La has always been known for their conscious efforts they decide to take a more freewheeling approach; no judgments, just ill wordplay.


  
Apr 28, 2016

Riding round on 4’/Don’t know where my partner roll/Neon lights all I see, I think I’m gone/Ice blood on my face, I’m forever thrown

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The beat sounds like an exploding glow stick while the rap itself is the audible equivalent to a Hawaiian shirt; loud and obnoxious. Lyrically it’s as if a four year old wandered into a recording booth and accidentally hit the record button. And the worst part is that there are two of them; clueless wankers trying to flex when all they have to their name are side-eye gimmicks and wack trends.


  
Apr 28, 2016

Live it up today if you want to/Live it down tomorrow afternoon/Sunday school don’t make you cool forever/And neither does the silver of your spoon

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A ridiculously funky jam produced by the legendary Sly Stone. It didn’t make as much an impact as it should have, but it did find new life later as a quaint little byline in a growing legacy. The beat machine churns out a simple but classic rhythm, and Little Sister nails it with their sweet harmonies. The lyrics may seem nonsensical, but that’s where Sly exists in between here and there.


  
Apr 28, 2016

It’s complimentary to the savages/You fuck around with me, it be a tragedy/I want green, green, green, no asparagus/I drink lean, lean, lean it ain’t embarrassing

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Per usual Future tries to pass off his rubber stamp lyrics as legitimate raps. The seething beat feels more like hot garbage radiating on a scorching summer day than it does fire found on a healthy dance floor. His malnourished perspective is in full flight and lands face first in a fresh mountain-sized dung heap. If you don’t understand certain parts don’t worry, you’re not missing a damn thing.


  
Apr 28, 2016

Just like fire, burning out the way/If I can light the world up for just one day/Watch this madness, colorful charade/No one can be just like me any way

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For years Pink has been undergoing a transformation and now it’s official, she’s a Power Ranger. A caricature shaped and molded by a bunch of suits. She’s supposed to be a counter culture figure, but the words she’s slingin’ around are about as bland and generic as bottom shelf cereal. The beat is just as atrocious, the type that tries to pass off a highly produced sound as “organic.”


  
Apr 26, 2016

See all the pricks and the hate, I love it/Even though I laugh in my snaps, don’t chuck it/Everybody’s talking light so fuck it/Boy, if I spit on your tune, I’ll buss it

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A deep, ominous beat ushers in a striking and formidable diatribe. The slew of attacks come in from multiple angles and hit with a level of intensity that speaks well beyond his years. He’s calling out all pretenders, and making sure that they understand exactly what they’re going up against when they test his might. It’s an introductory track with potential written all over it.


  
Apr 26, 2016

Was on my grind, it was my time/I ain’t think twice, I paid that price and we did this, nigga/Reached every goal I actually set/I had to sit back down and rearrange that list, nigga

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Nipsey Hu$$le pens his ode to the thug life. Unfortunately it’s a complete wash; saturated with commonplace rhymes and an elementary beat. There are moments were it sounds as if he’s not even rapping, more like interludes between verses. And just when you think he’s about to drop a line he gives way to a lame hook featuring an equally lame artist in Young Thug. A terrible homage with no style.


  
Apr 25, 2016

And I still can’t get from these hoes/It’s your’s every time/Cause you’re on my mind/Normally I don’t catch feelings for no one/But you got me this time

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Thick, heavy-handed bass consumes the beat, leaving a hazy but relatively clean slate for Lanez to croon over. The auto tune is lazy and overbearing, and covers up what is by and large a mediocre voice. He’s yearning and pushing forward looking for a way to get his girl to understand how much he loves her. But his excessive use of the word “ho” might not make for a convincing sell.


  
Apr 25, 2016

The pain and the shit I keep bottlin’/may explain all this liquor I’m swallowing/I’m no longer that kid who was fatherless/Now I got a new sense of confidence/People say I should stay positive/That’s exactly what I got a problem with/I reply, “Have you seen where my mama live?”

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There’s no shortage of superlatives in rap and it’s refreshing to see a lyricist like Fashawn put a sledgehammer to them. The sample from “My Guitar Gently Weeps” sets the mood, and the detail in which he explores his circumstances is both noteworthy and commendable. He’s exercising supreme confidence; not hesitating for a second to lambaste his naysayers. A telling piece of poetry with no limits.


  

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