Checkmark - "State Of The Art"

Greetings after a long hiatus, It's been over half a decade since my last post, and a lot has changed in the world since then; not just musically, but socially and globally as well. Thankfully, the dopeness of proper lyricism continues to shine steadfastly as our beacon of light and hope through these uncertain and troubled times. I haven't thought of this blog in mad long, but today's comes to you courtesy of Checkmark from Boston, Mass. I'm not sure how in twenty some-odd years of listening, curating and collecting hip-hop I managed to miss his former group Skitzofreniks, but as also a former emcee in the New England area, I wish to fuck I hadn't. 'Mark's flow on this reminds me of the first track I ever recorded, but that's not why I'm featuring it today. "State Of The Art," from 7L & Esoteric's The Soul Purpose album also feature satisfactory verses from Akrobatiks, Cadence, and Eso, but Check kills it. As always, link provided to listen!

Checkmark - "State Of The Art" (verse) by BlazeStar_VOD


When you want rhymes that shine, mine are brutal of course
Stay on the low like the dude on the horse, due to the force
Of Mr. Check's flows, my tape come with a neck roll
I let go raps, that other cats wanna echo (echo, echo)
Deck goes, rewindin' again, remindin' men
Bring your dime to the show, find yourself minus a 10
You're talkin' but you're lyin' again
At the Skitzofrenik auction, all your friends are like "I'm buyin' his pen"
They and can try and pretend like they're super, fly and get hemmed
Try me -- you'll be buyin' Heinekens in the end
For the supplier of gems, that'll hot-wire ya Benz
Slash ya tires, spittin' fire, ridin' ya rims
While all you rhymin' twerps come short like Simon Birch
I'm that jerk climbin' in dime's skirts, behind the church
FInd what works for you, and stick to it
Or get sprayed, by my dick fluid -- that ass, I'll rip through it
Mr. Check...

Street Life - "Semi-Automatic: Full Rap Metal Jacket"

After randomly popping in an old burned CD for the car (BlazeStar Presents: D-Block Dominance, 2005), I was fondly reminded of one of the most overlooked and underrated Wu disciples -- Patrick Charles a.k.a. Street Life.  Today's featured verse is him verbally laying waste to "Semi-Automatic: Full Rap Metal Jacket"; a RZA-produced, hardcore banger of a track which appeared on the High School High soundtrack album back in '96 (where he is credited only as Street). This was in fact only his second major feature alongside his Shaolin brethren, the first being on Method Man's seminal debut album, Tical ("Mr. Sandman").  That High School High CD though, wow... I remember buying it on while in school on a field trip to Boston and being blown away by the sheer number of quality tracks on it (about 10 or so, if I recall correctly)!  ANYWAYS, since you're the type of person who would read this blog, pick it up if you see it somewhere -- you'll thank me later!

Street Life - "Semi Automatic: Full Rap Metal Jacket" (verse) by BlazeStar_VOD

Wu-Tang bee... Killin you softly with this song 
You won't survive the outcome; I bring Def Jams to your eardrums 
P.L.O. hits the hardest, regardless 
Felony offenders catchin Murder One charges 
Open cases, got me smoked out in staircases 
The dark crusader, jackin cats in elevators 
I strike back like the Jedi, from N.Y.
S-I illifyin, dope rhyme supplyin
I be all you need to rock these mic devices 
Projectile, Shaolin style exiles your juvenile freestyle..
I'm not your basic, street entrepreneur
Crime Talk, packs the Luger 
High pursuit for the CREAM like The Bodyguard from Beijing 
Inject you with the morphine, then I flee the murder scene 
On your facilities, the penalty, D.O.A.
Bomb-shell your borough like Bombay 
Opposite a track, that's why these thieves stay strapped 
As we, travel the globe to put Shaolin on the map 
I show loyalty, to my fans fully 
Operational raps, that bust through your skully
I'm rated second-to-none, I be the top gun 
From the lands of the slums spittin blades from my tongue 
Park your slug slinger, hit you with the sleeper 
Hit-seeker, sounds that be a-ttackin your speaker
Watch me bang the headpiece kid, there's no survival 
My flow lights up the block, like a homicidal!
Murder, underground beef for the burger 
P.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard of...

Juelz Santana - "Double Up"

Most people would argue that the Dipset movement is over; Cam and Jim having split ways (although is a reunion ever out of the question?), Hell Rell presumably back on the block pitching raw and being hard, and JR Writer (who?) doing God knows what. Juelz Santana, however, has found life in founding a new movement, the Skull Gang. Thankfully, however, today's Verse of Death has nothing to do with that, at all. Instead, we take you in the complete opposite direction; to what, as far as I can tell, is Juelz' first appearance on a major record: "Double Up," from Killa Cam's sophomore LP, 2000's S.D.E. When I first heard this song, I was like, damn... this kid is gonna be a force to be reckoned with! Over a lurking, nervous loop, Juelz not only outshines his host, but possibly everything he's ever recorded since then... Whoops!

Juelz - "Double Up" (verse) by BlazeStar_VOD

I fucked up, let the streets get a hold of me

Now they got me trapped in and they holdin me

I'm stressed out, why else would I smoke the weed?

Everyday Papi tell me he got coke for cheap

Broke as shit; thats why I hold the fifth

Send niggas to snatch your chain and choke your bitch

Rope your nigga, leave 'em wit an open liver

I'm the reason why it's gon' get cold this winter

I done seen niggas stand on these blocks for days

Pump work out of buildings, dimes and treys

Fuck A&R's that want me to dance and pose

I'd rather, stand on poles with grams and o's

White shirt, construction Tims, a pair of Girbauds

And white powder stuff, that'll clear out ya nose, faggot

Enter Khalib / Beanie Sigel - "Kill 'Em All"

Tonight's update is brought to you by long-time friend, boom-bap connoisseur, tireless lyricist and father, and all-around angry guy Khalib Ali. A fellow subscriber to the Verses Of Death philosophy of sheer dopeness, he's been on my back for a few days (weeks? months?) about getting some post time up in this bitch. And being the altruistic motherfucker I am, I was like, sure... just don't come with some wack, corny-ass, bullshit garbage nonsense, feel me? And sure enough, he didn't. But enough with the talkin; I'ma let tha kid go in.

Slither your way through the troubled past of one Mr. Dwight Grant. Whether it be the documented prescription pill-slash-liquid codeine problems, falling out with entrepreneur and Roc-A-Fella founder Jay-Z , or grindin' out hard time upstate, what you're left with is the self-proclaimed Broad Street Bully, Beanie Sigel. The man is an emcee with above-average lyrical capabilities and delivery; he'll probably never wow you like an Eminem or late-90's Wu verse, but he will have you breaking your neck. Which brings us to today's Verse of Death: Bean's effort on "Kill 'Em All," a murderous cut from Vinnie Paz' 2010 solo outing Season of the Assassin. The song is centered around the gun laws in Philadelphia, the city that fathered both emcees' styles. Not since "The Truth" had Sigel really caught my ears--until now! Mac Mittens gets an A for lyrics, delivery, and flow on this one [plus the beat is fuckin disgusting! -ed. note]. Look no further...

Beanie Sigel - "Kill 'Em All" (verse) by BlazeStar_VOD

May death come to all those who cross us
The preachers, the pastors, the deacons, coffins
Church masses, closed caskets

Bible verses, long black hearses
Long-ass gats too big for holsters

Obituary posters is gettin posted
The reaper closin in, he gettin closer
You just fake, you blink (whaaaa!) It's over!
State Prop soldier here, SK shoulder-gear

Ice grill who? Hold that stare
Half a clip now, hold dat there

Shoot out'cha hip, now; roll that chair, uh... yeah

You missed the list of the souls I spared
I double-checked it, you ain't on that there

I squeeze weapons

Hollowpoints open up like the cobra head
Collapse lungs like a fold-up chair

Flatline, clear!

Jus Allah - "Burning The Mirror"

Whaddup reader! It's been awhile since I've felt like posting anything here, but you can thank Philadelphia's underground stalwarts Jedi Mind Tricks for rilin' me up with their new joint, the Stoupe-less yet still-perfectly-JMT-sounding Violence Begets Violence. On their latest effort, perpetually-constipated-sounding Vinnie Paz and multi-syllabic verbal champion Jus Allah bring back the hardness that's been missing from rap these past few years; honestly, it took me two days just to get past the insanity that is today's featured track, "Burning The Mirror." It was really tough deciding who deserved the spotlight -- both come correct on this shit! In the end though, Jus wins out, as I respect his return-to-form after years of absence as opposed to Paz, who is pretty reliable in the consistency department. With Vin, you know what to expect; Islamic references, homophobia, dead dad references, and angry threats. Jus however, is always on some other shit, be it professing his love for criminal activity, conjuring images of bloody murder scenes, or.. okay, I guess that's equally predictable. But as I've said before, you don't like it? Write your own damn blog ;) P.S. This isn't the only ill verse from Jus on this album... go cop that shit; I'm tellin you son, it's fire!

Jus Allah - "Burning The Mirror" (verse) by BlazeStar_VOD

My babysitter hung herself
I was way too young to help
It's no way I could've lifted her and strung the belt
Wish she could've gave me somethin else, cruel summer
But I'm always elated to meet the newcomers
I like to stare at models, to compare brothels
Puttin air in bottles, sharin pot and Aristotle
With the baddest dime inhalin traffic line
And we don't talk about pasttimes and astral signs
I'm fearless, there's an eeriness to my appearance
I'm experienced in severeness
I'm embellished in devilishness
I'm a detriment to health and wellness
I'm everything selfish and felonous
I'm only aware of unfairness
Islam and Arabic
Nuclear fission bombs and terrorists
More torturers, live with no order
I live in close quarters..
Bodies everywhere; it's an episode of Hoarders!

Joell Ortiz - "Slaughterhouse"

Bronx-bred Joell Ortiz drops by for today's edition of VOD. This Latin lyrical powerhouse recently left Dr. Dre's Aftermath Records and now slings slick syllables with Cali's own Crooked I, Mr. Internet Rapper himself a.k.a. Joe Budden, and angry Muppet-soundalike as of late Royce Da 5-9, who collectively form johnny-come-lately-East-Coast-saviors Slaughterhouse. I'm not a huge Slaughterhouse fan, mind you (in fact, the only non-SH emcee featured on this track -- Nino Bless -- very well may have outshined his hosts), but 9 out of 10 heads agree; Ortiz murked this shit! And as much as I think Bloggin' Joe Jumpoff is a herb (which is a lot), you gotta give him props for locking down this phenomenal, definition-of-ferocious Scram Jones beat.

Joell Ortiz - "Slaughterhouse" (verse) by BlazeStar_VOD

I define gutter
Every time I rhyme I climb up another notch
Hip-hop got my spine smothered
But I’ll be fine, brother
My mind hovers above all you jive suckers
Listen, that’s word to my mother
You throw a shot at me, I’m throwin a shot back
Your’s is on a joint
Mine’s whistlin by your top hat
Yeah I’m cool but you violate and I’ll cock back
Open the MAC’s mouth and black out like I do not rap
I'm sick and tired of niggas lyin
They fifth is lyin in the second drawer
Next door to some bullshit they ironed
Y'all be makin up stories the little kids is buyin
I do everything my Penn State like a Nittany lion
I ain’t gotta mention the streets on a song
To get in a nigga ass on these beats like a thong; pause
Veterans co-sign me, the up-and-comin scared
The pretty girls go “Papi, here’s my underwear!”
Never in a hundred years I thought I’d be a rapper
But in less than a hundred bars I knew I’d be a factor
I’m PS4 in HD, and the screen is plasma
You’re Atari 2600 with a weak adapter!
Between us? The gap’s so crazy
I’m Gucci, Louis V; you’re Gap, Old Navy
I get coochie in the V, you attract no ladies
You’re suburb, I’m gutter where the gats go crazy

Killa Sin - "Soldiers Of Darkness"

Ahh, Killa Sin. Arguably the most lyrical member of Killarmy, a Wu-Tang-affiliated collective that released two fairly-classic LPs (Silent Weapons For Quiet Wars and Dirty Weaponry), and a third, not-quite-as-good-but-still-reasonably-dope-by-today's-standards long-player (Fear, Love & War) before dissolving into essentially six men putting out mixtapes and cameo verses. I'm pretty sure Sin is in jail right now, which is quite unfortunate when you think about the state of hip-hop today. Anyways, here's his classic opening verse from basically my favorite song of all time; Sunz Of Man's "Soldiers Of Darkness," which also featured Killarmy co-foreman 9th Prince, younger brother of one Robert Diggs, Jr. (that's RZA, to you).

Killa Sin - "Soldiers Of Darkness" (verse) by BlazeStar_VOD

Yo, yo
I gotta get a grip!
An edge on life, I'm livin trife, G
I'm sheisty, now why I see why nobody likes me
It might be the image projected I selected
But 'F' it; shit is mad real, as well as hectic
Inspect it, your vest and got tested
Suggestions molested my thoughts
I manifest it, but check it!
My mind was designed for crimes, the bottom line
Cuz it's my time to shine wit the nickel-plated 9
To a spine, and there's no remorse in my source of madness
With my temper, my anger rises like my status
Because I'm known on the borough of Shaolin, for wildin'
Don't think that it's peace when I be smilin'
A heart stone cold is what I own
For niggas who brag, I break bones
Leave 'em ungagged and hear them moan!
I hate snakes on that fake shit
I get mad, leave 'em shooken up bad like when the quake hit
I got a steez-o that's raw, man
Another brother provoked, the gun smoke
Now that's all, damn!
Why did he bother the father of horror
Knowin full well that he won't live to see tomorra?
Be on your guard when I start to flip shit, I'm sick
Word to God, it's hard to get a grip..