Producer: RZA
Album: Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)
Label: Loud

"Yo, Meth, where my Killer tape at, God?" That simple question was the gateway into Wu's wondrous world of blazing skits. As soon as you heard this one-and-a-half minute ghetto soap that starts at the top of "Wu Tang: Seventh Chamber," you knew you were hooked on these real cats who could turn an ordinary argument into some riveting, marvelous shit.

Of course the drama sets in when Ghost bangs on the door and enters to announce that Shameek from 212 just got bust in the head two times and is lying there like "a fuckin' newborn fuckin' baby."

When someone asks if he's dead, GFK goes off: "Is he fuckin' dead?! What the fuck you mean is he fuckin' dead, God? The nigga laying there with all types of fuckin' blood comin' out." Then in an absurd moment, the Killer tape is mentioned again and the room erupts with more incredulous reactions.

The dark humor mixed with every-day ghetto tragedy feels like we're watching Joe Pesci and company in Black Goodfellas. (By the way, it seems Rae really did need that Killer tape, judging by the influence that the John Woo flick had on Only Built 4 Cuban Linx...)