Tupac's Technical Skills As A Rapper

[Da_Eggman]

Mama raised a hellrazor... born thuggin
Heartless and mean, muggin at sixteen
On the scene watchin fiends buggin
Kickin up dust with the older G's
Soakin up the game that was told to me
I ain't never touched a gat that I couldn't shoot, I learned
not to trust the bytch from the prostitutes, was taught lessons
A young nikka askin questions while other suckers was guessin
I was ganked for sexin
Elementary wasn't meant for me, can't regret it
I'm headed for the penitentiary, I'm cuttin class
and I'm buckin blastin, straight mashin
Mobbin through the overpass laughin
While these other motherfukkers try to figure out, no doubt
They jealous of a nikka's clout, tell me Lord
Can ya feel me? I keep my finger in the trigger
Cause some nikka tried to kill me
and mama raised a hellraizor, everyday gettin paid
Police on my pager, straight stressin
A fugitive my occupation is under question
Wanted for investigation, and even though
I'm marked for death, I'ma spark til I lose my breath
Motherfukkers, every time I see the paper
I see my picture, when a nikka's gettin richer
They come to get ya, it's like a motherfukkin trap
And they wonder why it's hard bein black
Dear Lord can ya feel me, gettin major, unhh

 

[DPG]

He washed BDK

They both killed it.

One more time baby...
I'll be forever, the gogetter of the chedder
Thinkin' ahead of my competitor, just too clever to sever
I got it together, to represent with my true nigg
The first syllables of our name together is 2 big
Think about that!

 

[The Gimp]

He wasn't rhyming anywhere close to Biggie

Just listened to Trapped. This nicca tupac said

Got to my feet
Couldn't see
Nothin but bloody blood

 

[pointproven214]

He wasn't rhyming anywhere close to Biggie

Just listened to Trapped. This nicca tupac said

Got to my feet
Couldn't see
Nothin but bloody blood

u trolling biggie was a one syllable rhymer and had simple rhyme schemes compared to pac.


Now can your mind picture, a thug nikka drinkin hard liquor
This ghetto life has got me catchin up to God quicker
Who would figure that all I need was a hair trigger
semi-automatic Mack 11 just to scare nikkaz
Pardon my thug poetry, but suckers is born everyday
and fear of man - grow on trees
Criminal ties for centuries, a legend in my own rhymes
So nikkaz whisper when they mention
Machiavelli was my tutor Donald Goines, my father figure
Moms sent me to go play with the drug dealers
Hits fall, we thug nikkaz and we came in packs.
Every one of nikkaz strapped sippin on 'nac (Cognac)
In the back, my AR-15
Thuggin till I die, these streets got me cravin thorazine
My lyrics are blueprints to money makin
Fat as that ass that honey shakin

 

[2Quik4UHoes]

that alliteration...

[Verse One]
They say p*ssy and paper is poetry power and pistols
Plottin on murderin motherfukkers 'fore they get you
Picturin pitiful punk nikkaz coppin pleas
Puffin weed as I position myself to clock G's
My enemies scatter in suicidal situations
Never to witness the wicked shyt that they was facin
Pockets is packed with presidents, pursue your riches
Evadin the playa hatin tricks, while hittin switches
bytches is bad-mouth, cause brawlin motherfukkers is bold
But y'all some hoes, the game should be sewed
I'm sick of psychotic society somebody save me
Addicted to drama so even mama couldn't raise me
Even the preacher and all my teachers couldn't reach me
I run in the streets and puffin weed wit my peeps
I'm duckin the cop, I hit the weed as I'm clutchin my glock
nikkaz is hot when I hit the block, what if I die tonight

[Verse Two]
Polishin pistols prepare for battle pass the pump
When I get to poppin nikkaz is droppin then they done
Callin the coroner come collect the fukkin corpse
He got it by killer, preoccuppied with bein boss
Revenge is the method, whenever steppin keep a weapon close
Adversaries are overdosed over deadly notes
Jealous nikkaz and broke bytches equal packed jails
Hit the block and fill your pockets makin crack sales
Picture perfection pursuin paper with a passion
Visions of prisons for all the pussies that I blasted
Runnin with criminals individuals with no remorse
Try to stop me my pistol posse's usin deadly force
In my brain all I can think about is fame
The police know my name, a different game, ain't a thing changed
I'm seein cemetary photos of my peers
Conversatin like they still here, if I die tonight

[Verse Three]
p*ssy and paper is poetry power and pistols
Plottin on murderin motherfukkers 'fore they get you
Pray to the heavens three-fifty-sevens to the sky
And I hope I'm forgiven for Thug Livin when I die
I wonder if heaven got a ghetto for Thug nikkaz
A stress free life and a spot for drug dealers
Pissin while practicin how to pimp and be a playa
Overdose of a dikk, while drinkin liquor when I lay her
Pistol whippin these simps, for bein petrified and lame
Disrespectin the game, prayin for punishment and pain
Goin insane, never die, live eternal, who shall I fear?
Don't shed a tear for me nikka I ain't happy hear
I hope they bury me and send me to my rest
Headlines readin MURDERED TO DEATH, my last breath
Take a look picture a crook on his last stand
Motherfukkers don't understand, if I die tonight

This was how I learned alliteration.

'Pac's lyricism was much more from a poet's point of view rather than a battle rapper or corner freestyler.

 

[DPG]

'Pac's lyricism was much more from a poet's point of view rather than a battle rapper or corner freestyler.

This.

Pac wasn't trying to prove he could spit the best. He realized his message and connecting to his fans was more important.

 

[The Ruler 09]

I think his skill is underrated because he made shyt sound effortless at times.

 

[pointproven214]

This was how I learned alliteration.

'Pac's lyricism was much more from a poet's point of view rather than a battle rapper or corner freestyler.

most of these techniques like wordplay punchlines metaphors complex multi-syllable rhyme schemes existed before rap

only difference between rap and potery is the tempo and the speed of which u say the words.

 

[Cadillac]

Tell me baby, what's your frequency
You see I'm makin proposals that's full of verbaly indecency when ya meetin me
Flash light I'm buzzed, wasn't right like drugs
Got 3 strikes, you got cause last night's for thugs
Holdin my position my competition is never ready
Ripped like a machete, my alias Makaveli
So what they tell me through the grapevine
nikkas ain't tryin to see me paid, they rather take mine
Retaliation takes time
Create rhymes, that so ferocious that the bass line
Went for my vocals everytime a nikka say it rhyme
Spendin and bustin you thought you was but you wasn't, prepared
nikkas is scared, I'm eternally thuggin
Like Kamikazes on a suicide mission I'm spittin
Multiple gunshots, burnin turnin rappers to victims
I kick em all day, and my motto make Biggie Smalls pay
I make it rough enough, you and puffy crawl away

First to bomb, quick to unload
Expose, my foes, for being bytches
Keepin nikkas suspicious, 2 Glocks
Is filled with ammo
My army fatigues ready for battle
Lyrical commando, let's get it on
Tell me nikka, how much you can handle
Bangin on wax, I turn the track into a Roman Candle (boom)
My intention specifically, thugged out, no sympathy
Pictures of closed caskets, soon as Daz get with me
I'm first to bomb,first is the calm, then the panic
Soon as my nikkas break, we earthquake the whole planet
Adversaries can't understand it
The way my nikkas strategize
Don't nobody die unless we planned it
Life long committed, I write songs and spit it
No matter how hard mothafukkas try they can't get it
It's Death Row, Westside, Outlaws til we die, Thug Life
Mothafukkas on the ride and we--

This was how I learned alliteration.

'Pac's lyricism was much more from a poet's point of view rather than a battle rapper or corner freestyler.

Nah he utilized both like u saw in "if I die"

PAC can spit the OP has a song with good rhyme schemes and there's the one I posted^^^

 

[bigbadbossup2012]

2pac's key word - adversary

He didn't even start saying that till deathrow,to my knowledge

 

[bigbadbossup2012]

Pac is goat period

 

[Cadillac]

This.

Pac wasn't trying to prove he could spit the best. He realized his message and connecting to his fans was more important.

honestly I think when he means he aint trying to be "lyrical miracle" like he was describing in that video I think hes descrbing a style like eminem for example where when hes rapping eminem tends to cram multis and throwing in metahpors,similies and he aint really saying anything (like what he was doing on Rap God) and when he does, he tends to drive away from his point and spends a 1-3 bars talking about his similie/metahphor.

I say this becasue Pac still used metahpors,similes, multies etc in his song, granted not as much as say a Jay-Z and Nas would but still used them

 

[Cadillac]

Ohh shyt! Jumped on my man's dikk
Heard he had a twelve inch, now the bytch is lovesick
Who's to blame, the guy or the groupie?
Heard I was down with D.U., now she wants to do me
Oooh-wee! This is the life
New bytch every night, never tripped off a wife
It ain't right, but it's cool how they come quick
Don't try to flip with the lip cause I run shyt
Hip hip, hooray for the AK
Spray when I lay competition, what a great day
Make pay, next is the wet sex
Hexed with the vex now they wreck with the complex
I'm set, wonder what I tote, check
Bloody as a Kotex, snappin motherfukkers necks
Revenge so sweet when it comes from
nikkaz get done with the drum, watch my foes run
nikka keeps comin when they can't slip
Full of that shit, another hit from Tha' Lunatic


Leave me the fukk alone, you gets none of this
It's suicidal, you lose your title like Doug-las
Cause I'm nothin nice and, I'm icin like Tyson
I'm grippin the mic and, my DJ is slicin
I'm tired of motherfukkers steppin to me with the SAME OLD
Tryin to do me like Nintendo
How the fukk you think I ever got this far?
By bootin motherfukkers like a shootin star
Cause I'm out to show, that I'm a dope MC
Think crack had you fiendin, wait'll they get a load of me
bytches on my dikk, like a motherfukkin 'condom
nikkaz wanna flip, let em step, and I'll bomb em
See somethin you want, why don't you come and get it
And then get waxed and taxed, like the government
Then I leave you sittin there, wonder where your money went
While your bytch is callin me, tellin me to come again
nikka I'm loc'ed, when I smoke, from the indo
But we can be friends though, after you get broke like a window
That's what you provoked, and now you're smoked out
Lookin like a bytch, cause your whole fukkin posse, broke out
Punk motherfukker couldn't roll on
He couldn't hold on, game is too strong, nikka
Leave me the fukk alone, you gets none of this
Feel the wrath.. and revenge of Tha' Lunatic

Recognize game when it smacks your bytch I'm back to rip
Puttin this on the map with this mackin shyt
Time will tell if it's made well
Well I raise hell and excel cause it pays well
Jordan couldn't dunk it any harder, pump it any farther
I'm funky, that's word to the father
Act like you know 'fore I thump, the bolo
Thought you was a pimp, now you're simpin for my solo
Oh no, not another new jack, swearin that he's ruthless
Ducked, and now he's fukked and left toothless
I can hear the fear in your flow, you ain't prepared
You're scared and you're bound to go
It's somethin, I guess I let the beat keep bumpin
Stop trippin off these nikkaz cause they ain't about nuttin
Or should I say NAYthin
Punk put my tape in, fukk all the fake-in
I'm sick of the bullshyt
Come equipped and get ready to rip
or get the dikk of Tha' Lunatic

 

[spliz]

You wanna hear an update on Pac's technical skills? Listen to Freddie Gibbs....not especially tricky or flashy but just constant pace, walking the beat down like a fukkin boxer. Most importantly he is a song writer which is really the crux of lyricism...he's one of the most prolific.

And unlike most artists he was actually ramping up on that aspect of his artistry. There is a clear separation between how Pac was coming lyrically one 7DT...one of the artists with one of the best discographies already at that point was getting BETTER.

Actually. Slaughter Rico was the best example I can think of when it comes to an updated version of Pac''s flow.

 

[Dominoes]

'Hold ya Head' is full of technical skill and gems.... That 2nd and especially 3rd verse though


Verse 1:
I wake up early in the mornin', mind state so military
Suckers fantasizin' pictures of a young brother buried
Was it me, the weed or this life I lead?
If daytime is for suckers then tonight we breathe

Out for all that, knowin' that this world bring drawbacks
Look how they shiver once I deliver these raw raps

Meet me at the cemetery, dressed in black
Tonight we honor the dead, those who won't be back
So if I die, do the same for me, shed no tears
An Outlaw, thug livin' in this game for years
Why worry? Hope to God, get me high when I'm buried
Knowin' deep inside only a few love me
Don't rush me to the gates of heaven
Let me picture for a while, how I lived for my days as a child
I wonder now, how do we outlast?
Always get cash, stay strong if we all mash; hold ya head!




Verse 2:
These felonies be like prophecies, beggin' me to stop,
cause these lawyers gettin money every time they knock us
Snatchin' pockets lyrically, suckers flea when they notice
Switched my name to Makaveli, half the rap game ghost
Exposed foes with my hocus-pocus flows, they froze
Now suckers idolize my chosen blows

And mo' money mean litigatin', mo' playa hatin'
Got a cell at the Pen' for me waitin'; is this my fate?
Miss me with that misdemeanor thinkin', me fall back?
Never that, too much tequila drinkin, we all that

Make them understand me? Hell nah, this ain't my posse
Everyone with me is family, ‘cause everybody's got me
Watch me paint a perfect vision, this life we livin'
Got us all meetin' up in prison
Last week I got a letter from my road dog, written in blood
Sayin', "Please show a playa love", hold ya head! (Hold it!)



Verse 3:
God bless the child that can hold his own
Indeed, enemies bleed when I hold my chrome

Let these words be the last to my unborn seeds
Hope to raise my young nation in this world of greed
Currency means nothin' if you still ain't free
Money breeds jealousy, take the game from me
I hope for better days, trouble comes naturally
Runnin' from authorities 'til they capture me

And my aim is to spread mo' smiles than tears
Utilize lessons learned from my childhood years

Maybe Mama had it all right, rest yo' head
Tradin' conversations all night, bless the dead

To the homies that I used to have that no longer roll
Catch a brother at the crossroads
Plus nobody knows my soul, watchin' time pass
Through the glass of my drop-top Rolls; hold ya head!