The Best Rap Verses of the Month

2015 is heating the fuck up. We have OGs and up-and-comers alike going in like the old days. Dumb raps over stupid beats like things ought to be. Your Old Droog continues to give the game quality bars over vintage production. Fabolous and Jadakiss have been serving the streets of NYC crack rocks just in time for the nice weather. Kanye gave Tyler one of his best verses in recent memory on "Smuckers." And Jaden Smith is trying to save the planet, one rap at a time.

This month we have a mix of street raps, funny raps, and complex raps. Just like the Good Lord intended. These are the Best Rap Verses of the Month.

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

Date: April 19, 2015

"It’s Droog

The hidden persuader, the purse raider

Come up with a hot line and finish a verse later

Get to get to it, got a lot of stuff on my mind

Doing everything your Droog even tried to meditation crime

To maintain

Maybe I’ll become a fitness instructor, takeover Jack LaLanne lane

Workout, spend the next day in pain

Go hard for a few weeks then invariably the interests start to wane

Still spitting butane on the Q train, fresh from the Ukraine

How I had a whole collection of rare raps in the brain

That’s why my project dropped and hit the city harder than collapsing cranes

The old scriptures is more advanced than advanced packets

Y’all might as well be Kriss Kross with your pants backwards

Not a doubt in my mind this shit will sell

Still take the train back from the lab and get off at Stillwell

I stay determined waited, putting in work before the terminal hotel sign got terminated

Got my shit permeated, the game, over beats that remind me of my environment

You still selling, but I ain't buying it, or renting"

Droog continues to win with his retro sound with witty bars over groovy beats. He sounds like Nas? So? This guy can spit with the best of them and knows how to use the Internet to his advantage. The game was in need of a throwback rapper.

Date: April 14, 2015

"Renegade, never been afraid, sippin' lemonade

Flew to France, sip in different ways, serendipi-tay

Do you ever struggle with your enemies?

Tryna conjure energies, tryna lay a finger on my inner chi, prana

Say what you wanna, I’m onto the next

I’m a new male Madonna, you too worried bout them checks

Can’t keep a shirt on 'em in the zone of flex

But what about respect? I’m just too busy to check

Lex Luthor, Kama Sutra

Come on, I don’t care, leave that stuff to Obama

Screw yo commas, let my sentence run on

C02 emitting until our damn sun’s gone

Now who’s your number one, huh?

Aye, who’s your number one, huh?

Aye, who ya number one, huh?

Who’s your number two? Ditto, spit you the truth for real though

Tooth fairy under your pillow, camarillo

I don’t listen to you, I listen to Willow

The ether come out ya' speakers, you got a problem?

Speak up, before the teacher leave ya'

Red pants dancing with the devil won’t repeat the

Last century, evolution probably mention me

Penitentiaries, they filling up, that’s why they killing us

Probably see the flaws in the matrix if you real enough

Tried to keep it basic but the doctor’s always pilling us

You even know what penicillin does?

Me either, I am the beat eater

Peeta from Hunger Games here to bring the funk again

Jaden’s alter ego probably jumping in

If it’s fine with you, we rendezvous at 10

Walk up to ya' crib with condoms in my hand

Man we chilling with the kids, they cause some problems in the sand

And all because I told them God was not a man

I love you so I’ll probably carve it in my hand

The cycle’s over, won’t restart it once again, won’t restart it

Beat cold, flow, it’s so retarded

Burning coal just to gain control, homie I got it

Young prophet, come out of pocket

Just to see the geo-engineering stop it, we are boycotting it

Went from picking cotton to B-Poppin' on the rocketship

And now we got the magic and we frickin' Harry Potter on these jokers

And whatever you be droppin', I ain’t coppin' it

Cause I’m tryna make sure that my kids will have some oxygen

When they land, you guys won’t understand

'Daddy, could we fly?' I never could but you probably can

And you guys are outta hand, just look at what’s in your hands

Saving the world is my obligation, it’s not a plan

But I’ll do what I can

And I hope I don’t die from a lie before I can get y’all to understand

Understand

And ride out to this man"

Stop. Sleeping. On. Jaden. Smith.

Date: April 13, 2015

“Why, oh why, why?

Why don't they like me?

Cause Nike gave lot of niggas checks

But I'm the only nigga to ever check Nike

Richer than white people with black kids

Scarier than black people with ideas

Nobody can tell me where I'm headin'

But I feel like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen at my wedding

They say I'm crazy but that's the best thing going for me

You can't lynch Marshawn, if Tom Brady throwin' to me

I made a million mistakes, but I'm successful in spite of 'em

I believe you like a fat trainer takin' a bite or somethin'

I wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds

I dream't of 2Pac, he asked me 'are you still down?'

'Yeah my nigga,' it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on

I know they told their white daughters don't bring home Jerome

I am the free nigga archetype

I am the light and the beacon, you can ask the deacon

It's funny when you get extra money

Every joke you tell just be extra funny

I mean you can even dress extra bummy

Cocaine bathroom break, nose extra runny

And I gave you all I got, you still want extra from me

Oxford want a full blown lecture from me

And the Lexus pull up, err like hop, I hopped out, like wassup

Err-err-err, step back, hold up, my nigga you suck, hold up

I studied the proportions

Emotions runnin' at an Autobahn speed level

Had a drink with fear, and I was textin' God

He said 'I gave you a big dick, so go extra hard'” —Kanye West

It's crazy how far Kanye has come in the rapping department. This is the best 'Ye verse in a minute.

Date: April 17, 2015

"I'm from where the hammers ring

They damage everything

Niggas tell, sign states, get on the stand and everything

I'm from where the cops beat you after they put the cuffs on

Where niggas get naked after they hit them dust joints

Where you could get something to eat out of the backyard

And all they got is EBTs, no black cards

Local bars, you could knock of yay

​The sun be out but the sky be charcoal grey

Shorty just tryna get his bread back

I'm from where they cop the Jordans after they next pack

I'm from where they put 40 in after they head crack

I'm from where these bitches fuck you until the bed crack

From where them crackers'll get you straight

The second highest conviction rate

And I'm talking United States

They send one informant nigga to buy the base (indictments)

And they ain't even worth rumblin'

The D.A. just lyin' and your lawyer just mumblin'

Old head tryna put his numbers in

My man just got 26 summers in

From where they do a lot of wonderin'

He's a boss, its a lot dudes under him

There's a lot of raw talent here, physically and mentally

They don't never make it 'cause they slack academically

From where they lack identity

Violation of the G-code is a penalty

Like when the Narcs take your keys and mess up your house

Handcuff you, find your work, have you stretched on the couch

New jail, second floor, you're the next in the house

When they first arrested you, you wasn't next to your house

Couldn't find the 40 Belows, I'll take the Chukkas

Girls from the projects, they loved us, couldn't wait to fuck us

I'm from where the suckas hate, but I hate the suckas

It's gonna take a mean army and some cake to touch us

Lost borough but the hardest one

Cough up a lung, where I'm from?

Yonkers, son"

Jada's still top five, dead or alive.

Date: April 10, 2015

"I put my lifetime in between the paper's line

Just a hustler out here trying to make a dime

Feel like when crackheads was beggin' me to take the nine

Man these bum ass rappers need to make a sign

That say: "Will rap for food," for real scrap you're screwed

I put the paws on you and Lil' Scrap you dudes

My goons in the audience still clap when cued

Put the Hawk in your chest and Millsap you dudes

I'm still snappin' dude, still run my city and still lappin' dudes

In the studio in a still trappin' mood

On a beat from '99 that's still slappin' dude

See real rap I'm rude, disrespectful with the flow

I met wifey she disrespect and call you bro

Shorty mouth crazy disrespectful on the low

She like to spit on it, disrespectful little ho

On some real shit, you just need a real bitch

Chillin' when in public, not some groupie'd out in the club bitch

Type you don't hear from until you get up

It was quiet for you till you started turnin' shit up

And that ain't real bitch, you more like a bill bitch

Fridge ain't got no grub bitch but it's eat the booty like it's Publix??

Run into these type chicks nothing is up

Shorty lost her sponsor that was cuffin' her up

I'm like hot damn ho here we go again

Your nigga cut you off broke scenario again?

No more Felipe you eating cereal again?

No more lipo you big as Terio again?

Oh yea, quiet for you niggas too

Wanna' small talk cause they ain't as big as you

Wanna' throw dirt cause the bitch is diggin' you

Don't let the songs on the last album trigga' you

You ain't Trey, you poo nah nah

Look what you done started ooh nah nah

Got the twin nine milli's, my two nah nahs

Used to call them Nadia, still bah bah body ya

We ain't lacking got the thing out or we concealing

We're I'm from daddy's bang out in front of their children

My plan was to get the gang out and get them millions

Now it's mansions but used to hang out up in them buildings

Them boys in the lobby was rowdy yeah

You gotta' think Bobby and Rowdy yeah

Now we out in Abu Dhabi in Saudi yeah

Then they let me Ricky Bobby the Audi yeah

On some Furious 7, rest in peace Paul Walker I hope you hear this in heaven

I be preaching on these niggas you would swear it's a reverend

Four game sweep flows in a series of seven

Its the F to the A to the B O-L-O-U-S you just get some mo' rellos'

I'm Frank Costello yea but mo' ghetto

Yea i'm in a house with more rooms than a hotello

I used to sit and watch Knicks moves, no Melo

Now I get to make king moves on rose petals

Shorty stand still didn't shake no jell-o

Then she slow it down like when the lights go yellow

On some real shit

I just want some real shit

Not none of this fuck shit

Sound like Barkley with that Chuck shit

Fuck all of that weird shit I'm tired of that

If it ain't Young OG then it's quiet for that

It's the real…"

Jesus *fans self* *does sign of the cross* *dies* Fab bodied this shit. Call the coroner. Zip the bag up.