The Best Rap Verses of the Month

Drake went gold off a surprise mixtape, Kendrick Lamar is heating up, Big Sean recently dropped an impressive follow-up to the disappointing Hall of Fame, and Kanye West finally gave us the finished version of "All Day" yesterday. 2015 is shaping up to be a monster. More importantly—to me anyway—Ka is finna drop some heat as well with his Days With Dr. Yen Lo project and TDE president Punch is out-rapping most rappers.

This month's list represents a little bit of everything rap has to offer. Here are my picks for the five best rap verses of the month. I hope you agree, and if you don't we can argue about it in the comments.

Angel Diaz is a staff writer for Complex Media. Follow him @ADiaz456.

Date: Feb. 20, 2015

"That's that don't play, whoo, that's that new Ye

People sayin' I'm the closest thing to Mike since Janet, whoo

Tom Cruise, homie, we jumpin' up on them couches

That's a fresh house, is that a guest house? Your house got another house?

Your bitch got a bitch, your spouse got another spouse?

Young Walt Disney, Imma tell you truthfully

If you leave Mickey you gon' end up with a Goofy

I imagine that's what Chris told Karrueche

Girls be actin' like it's diamonds in they coochie

I don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck

But cops chokin' niggas out in the media

We finna have to protest and tear the city up

We bout to tear this whole place up pretty much" —Kanye West

Ye is petty for that Karrueche line, but he is a petty cat. Also, is he throwing lil subs at Amber? Her coochie is made of diamonds because she inspired My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and had Wiz on trampolines with purple hair. I'm feeling how he went from dissing Chris' girl to talking about social ills. Kanye is a multi-faceted individual just like you and me.

Date: Feb. 24, 2015

"The combination of Donald Goines and Mickey Cohen

Literary gangsta to the core, try and spar with the boy?

This definitely ain’t no cake walk

This a wake waitin’ to happen, you niggas love nappin’

My Top Dawg faction runnin’ the atlas

Runnin’ amuck, on niggas who passed and wasn’t proactive

Yeah that’s the walk of shame crawlin’ back

They told us call ‘em back once we get a couple Southern acts

Well, ain’t too much changed

Floor seat like a game, mile high private planes

And we did it our way

Bars and business light years ahead of niggas, this is Stargate

Yea, the floss is real, approve the million dollar deal on the treadmill, I’m that trill

No more runnin’ in place, we’ll still run up in your place

And have you runnin’ your safe, or I’ll have Mack do it" —Punch

Punch might be the best rapping executive in the game. He's been eating your food lately, silly rappers. He hopped off the treadmill to deliver one of the best verses of the month. This shit is too easy for him. Can we start a petition to get a Punch LP?

Date: Feb. 19, 2015

"Was boppin' through every possible obstacle

My options grew until the cops pursued

But I'm here to win they can't stop the flu

All the kids napped you was hostage too

If you don't dig me it's no biggie Imma keep the faith

Streets be laced decent pay for a steeplechase

Evil days the most peligro ways to reach a safe

I saw bloody in the study we a peaceful race

Wild plays foul ways planning with the cannon

Strayed that's how I stayed standing in the famine

Whenever in doubt the first one to get it out

Thought cursed until I ain't die of thirst in a drought

Here they quick to shoot ya, my movie vague

Of course I'm sick I was living through the plague

Distraught talk of when I stalk this peasant

Still hot headed from when I walked the desert

Every step I had to rep, no thought was pleasant

Used to eat off a bird now I'm off the pheasant

It's great to hold your own weight, no kick stand

A big man could pull hisself out that quicksand" —Ka

Dr. Yen Lo is not only the name of the group Ka has with DJ Preservation; it's also borrowed from a character in the 1962 film The Manchurian Candidate​. It's a sad state of affairs that he doesn't get mentioned enough in the NYC rap convo. This is that back block shit, perfect for a cold winter night. Spark something and zone out to this street poetry.

Date: Feb. 13, 2015

"I heard what circulated, let's get to the bottom of it

I told 1da send me something and I got it covered

Somehow always rise above it

Why you think I got my head in the clouds on my last album cover?

The game is all mine and I'm mighty possessive

Lil Wayne could not have found him a better successor

Every shot you see them take at me they all contested

Allen Iverson shoe deal, these niggas all in question

Last night I went to sleep, wanted more

Tried to decide what direction I should go towards

Some nights I wish I could go back in life

Not to change shit, just to feel a couple things twice

28 at midnight, wonder what's next for me

Longevity, wonder how long they'll check for me

Prolly forever if I stay in my zone

I speak on this generation, but can't change it alone

I heard the lil lil homie talking reckless in Vibe

That's quite a platform you chose, you should've kept it inside

Oh, you tried It's so childish calling my name on the world stage

You need to act your age and not your girl's age

It gets worse by the annual, my career's like a “how to manual" so I guess it's understandable, man

Oh, you gotta love it, you gotta love it, yeah

I know rappers that call paparazzi to come and get 'em

To show they outfits off, guess they need the attention

I remember when it used to be music that did it

But then again times have changed, man, who are we kiddin'?

I'm managed by my friends that I grew up with

I'd rather give that 15 percent to people I fuck with

If me and Future hadn't made it with this rappin'

We prolly be out in Silicon tryna get our billions on

But here we are, yeah

Lately I feel the haters eatin' away at my confidence

They scream out my failures and whisper my accomplishments

Bitches alter my messages like we had words

And stories 'bout my life hit the net like a bad serve

Bitter women I'm overtextin' are PMSing crazy this year

Fuckin' with my image I've been tryna reach the youth so I can save 'em this year

Fuck it, I guess I gotta wait til next year

And I heard someone say something that stuck with me a lot

'Bout how we need protection from those protectin' the block

Nobody lookin' out for nobody

Maybe we should try and help somebody or be somebody

Instead of bein' somebody that makes the news

So everybody can tweet about it

And then they start to R.I.P. about it

And four weeks later nobody even speaks about it

Damn, I just had to say my piece about it

Oh, you gotta love it

But they scared of the truth so back to me showin' out in public that's a hotter subject

I've been whippin' Mercedes and nigga try to budget

I gotta make it back to Memphis to check on my cousins

Shout out to Ashley, Tasha, Biama, Julia, Ericka, Southern America part of my heritage

Pardon my arrogance, part in my hair again that's that comeback flow, comeback flow

Once I start it's apparent

I'm with girl whose ass is so big that's partly embarrassin'

But fuck all the blushin' and fuck your discussions and fuck all the judgement

Your content so aggressive lately, what's irkin' you?

Shit is gettin' so personal in your verses too

I wanna prove that I'm number one over all these niggas

Bein' number two is just being the first to lose

My city dictated music, nobody seein' us

Winter here already, but somehow I'm heatin' up

Been observin' the game and felt like I've seen enough

Let's drop a tape on these niggas then we'll see what's up

Yeah, boy, you rappin' like you seen it all

You rappin' like the throne should be the three of y'all

“Best I Ever Had” seems like a decade ago

Decadent flow and I still got a decade to go

Oh please, take it ease, where's the love and the peace?

Why you rappin' like you come from the streets?

I got a backyard where money seems to come from the trees

And I'm never ever scared to get some blood on my leaves

Phantom slidin' like the shit just hit a puddle of grease

I cook the beef well done on the double with cheese

Special order for anybody that's comin' for me

Shit you probably flinch if somebody sneeze

You see they got me back talkin' like it's just 40, Oli, and me

Cuttin' all loose ends, I be the barber for free

I'm almost at four minutes going off on the beat

Feel like I'm in the Malibu that had the cloth on the seats

Man, oh, you gotta love it

And on top of that it's getting harder to eat

Rappers downgrading houses, putting cars on the lease

To think labels said they had a problem marketing me

And now it's everybody else that's getting hard to believe

But man, oh, you gotta love it

And head to toe I'm Prada covered, I know your girl well, just not in public

Blame the city, I'm a product of it

Young nigga from the city, you gotta love it"

Look, man. Drake went off on this shit. He not only threw a shot at Tyga—something he and Chris Brown have been blabbering about on radio shows—it also sounds like he threw a shot at Kanye and Kendrick with the money tree in the backyard and not being afraid to get blood on the leaves lines. Just something to think about. I like this Drake.

Date: Feb. 9, 2015

"I'm the biggest hypocrite of 2015

When I finish this if you listenin' sure you will agree

This plot is bigger than me, it's generational hatred

It's genocism, it's grimy, little justification

I'm African-American, I'm African

I'm black as the heart of a fuckin' Aryan

I'm black as the name of Tyrone and Darius

Excuse my French but fuck you — no, fuck y'all

That's as blunt as it gets, I know you hate me, don't you?

You hate my people, I can tell cause it's threats when I see you

I can tell cause your ways deceitful

Know I can tell because you're in love with that Desert Eagle

Thinkin' maliciously, he get a chain then you gone bleed him

It's funny how Zulu and Xhosa might go to war

Two tribal armies that want to build and destroy

Remind me of these Compton Crip gangs that live next door

Beefin' with Pirus, only death settle the score

So don't matter how much I say I like to preach with the Panthers

Or tell Georgia State: “Marcus Garvey got all the answers”

Or try to celebrate February like it's my B-Day

Or eat watermelon, chicken, and Kool-Aid on weekdays

Or jump high enough to get Michael Jordan endorsements

Or watch BET cause urban support is important

So why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street?

When gang banging make me kill a nigga blacker than me?

Hypocrite!"

We made him a killer when many of us shunned "i" and disagreed with his comments regarding Ferguson. Because many us aren't capable of admitting that America is a racist place, violence in the inner city is a problem, and gun violence in general is a depressing issue in this country. This song represents multiple sides of those arguments, and this particular verse speaks on stereotypes as well as gang violence. Believing all these things does not make him a hypocrite; it makes him a human being.