The Best Rap Songs of 1996

Image via Complex Original

Album: From Where???

Back in ‘96, Virginia wasn’t known as a hotbed for hip-hop, so an MC like (Mad) Skillz felt like a rarity, but once you heard those punchlines on his breakout single “The Nod Factor,” it was all good. At the time, Mad Skillz was an Unsigned Hype winner who had a buzz off of a freestyle alongside Q-Tip on the Stretch Armstrong and Bobito Show​. Over some hypnotic Beatnuts production, Skillz comes with rhymes that had heads from coast to coast cracking up while this blasted from their headphones. While some of the lines didn’t last the test of time (you have to wonder what Obama would say to “I'm like a black president (why?) cause nIggas ain't seeing me”), it also showed that the tri-state area wasn’t the only region breeding cats with bars. —khal

Album: Gettin' It (Album Number Ten)

What breed of rapper would open their fourth platinum-certified album (and seventh solo album overall) with a soft jazz cover of "I'd Rather Be With You"? Too Short, the preternatural mack, who moved from the Bay to Atlanta while he was recording Gettin' It; thankfully, Short Dog's crucial collaborators Shorty B and Ant Banks came with him. The album's eponymous intro was Short Dog's biggest mark on 1996; "Gettin' It" peaked at No. 68 on the Hot 100 and at No. 49 on the R&B chart. This was, supposedly, a victory lap for Too $hort, who returned quickly enough three years later, only to find that his influence had spread as far as Atlanta and Houston; listen to "Wanna Be A Baller," which Lil Troy released two years after "Gettin It," and tell me you don't hear the echo. —Justin Charity

Album: Bad As I Wanna B​

"Cold Rock a Party" was a major win for the Brooklyn-born MC Lyte, but the version that everyone got acquainted with was the Bad Boy remix, a.k.a. a Diddy production featuring an obvious Diana Ross sample with Missy Elliott featured on the track. Sure, Lyte was already a hip-hop veteran that could “blow the roof right off of hip-hop,” but at this point in '96. Diddy and Missy were certified heat makers, and practically gave Lyte this one on a silver platter. "Cold Rock a Party" dropped three years after Lyte's last big single (1993's "Ruffneck"), and was the last glimpse of her song-writing skills on a major level. It was a massive club hit, and became Lyte’s most successful single, going gold in the U.S. while also impacting worldwide. —khal

Album: Muddy Waters​

It’s not often that a hookless, Jeep-ready banger would be released as the first single for an album, but it’s not often that Redman is getting a push from labels like Def Jam. “It’s Like That (My Big Brother)” finds fellow Hit Squad member K-Solo trading lines with Redman over a hyper, futuristic track from Reggie Noble himself. While K-Solo held his own (dropping a number of bigger SAT words over the beat), it was Red who owned this track, highlighting how this era was probably Redman’s peak when it came to consistent pen-to-paper murdering. —khal

Album: The Hemp Museum

Leave it to Bay Area underground rappers B-Legit, C-Bo and Little Bruce to make a catchy tune about promoting their good dope for all the fiends out there. Notice how the flows match up perfectly with the sample from Queens’ “Another One Bites the Dust,” which probably meant they were hardcore fans of the British rock band and paying homage. The trio doesn’t stray away from breaking down their inventory—seriously; they got everything from “a truck load of cookies (weed) like Amos ‘n’ Andy” to so much cocaine that “your whole crew cavied.” These rappers/drug dealers are so about that life that they even slang packs at the NBA All-Star Game. Twenty years later, this is still a classic cut to hit the corner with. Supply and demand 101. —Eric Diep

Album: Relativity Urban Assault

Yes, the heart of the East/West beef was a real, street-rooted rivalry between Death Row and Bad Boy, but if we’re going to be honest about it outside of those camps most of the coastal jingoism was just a bunch of chip-on-their-shoulder having grown-ass men lost in their feelings. Case in point, Ice Cube who randomly and viciously lashed out at Chicago’s (?!?!) Common on “Westside Slaughterhouse” in response to Com’s heart-broken lament the year prior, on “I Used To Love h.e.r.” that he felt increasingly alienated from the culture as it embraced West Coast gangsterism. Come on Senor Sensitivo, it’s not like dude even said your name!

Anyhow, despite having made strides down the road of maturity Common was quick to take it back to the outh side, dropping the Pete Rock produced “Bitch In Yoo.” In one of the most concise and efficient diss records of all time—each line delivering new ether—Common systematically dismantles Cube’s hypocrisy, reminding him he was, “on the dick of the East for your first release,” and then telling him: “Don’t take my words out of ‘text/You went from gangsta to Islam to the dick of Das Efx.” By the track’s conclusion even casual fans knew Cube’s IMDb page was longer than his rap sheet, and that when push came to shove Common, for all of his thoughtfulness and sensitivity, was not the one to score points off. Bow down? —Noah Callahan-Bever

Album: Illadelph Halflife

When Big Pun released his street single “Toe to Toe” alongside his buddy Cuban Link in 2000, it reminded of my of why I loved “Clones” so much. The beat interludes provided by a Quincy Jones’ “Summer in the City” sample before respective verses is the stuff of legends, highlighting the Roots astonishing ear for production. “Clones” it’s one of the illest beats ever constructed and M.A.R.S., Black Thought, Dice Raw, and Malik B. go in, leaving sucka MCs in their wake. When people ask for a real hip-hop song, play this track and we guarantee they'll instantly fall in love with the genre. Each rapper had memorable lines and drop jewels, with an emphasis on M.A.R.S.’ verse. From the “I hate gettin locked up, cause that upstate bus reminds me of the slave ships” line to the “I try to tell ya, don't let these streets fuckin' fail ya, the way niggas be gettin' clapped shit'll fuckin' scare ya” one, his bars have saved lives since the song’s release in ‘96. —Angel Diaz

Album: Gravity

The Bush Babees were kinda wack. Let’s just get that out of the way up front. And I say that having paid $7.99 ($8.65 with tax!) for both of their albums. But where their ‘94 debut was as a goofy, if hooky, failed stab at success, their ‘96 effort, Gravity, was a modestly successful stab at legitimacy. They slid up under the dissolving Native Tongues and attached themselves to the crew’s bohemian legacy via features from Q-Tip and Mos Def, and beats from the Ummah, Posdnuos, and Shawn J. Period. Though the LP was kinda meh-plus, it had one one perfect moment—where an epically ambient Pos beat and monstrously catchy Mos hook collided—“The Love Song.” The trio from Brooklyn stepped up their execution to their ambitious collaborators, and god was it gorgeous. Sublime, really. Tucked between a slow rolling bassline and delicate organ vibes, Mr. Man, Light, and Lee Majors exchange bouyant, memorable sucker MC raps. And then there’s Mos Def. Fresh off his song stealing verse on "Stakes Is High," Mos delivers an absolutely effortless, absolutely perfect baritone chorus that really gives the entire oeuvre purpose, and a timeless charm. Love is love, after all. —Noah Callahan-Bever

Album: Ghetto Millionaire​

At the height of the East/West tension Queens rapper, and Mic Geronimo protege, Royal Flush took the unlikely tact of admonishing his coastal brethren for their acute bitchassness. Over off-kilter, borderline psychotic violin stabs Flush gets to the heart of it in spoken preamble: “Lettin' niggas talk that “New York, New York” shit—fucks the deal? Niggas in New York be lettin' niggas shit on em. First you drinkin’ Snapple now you sippin' Moe? Just cause you livin', ain't no reason for you to be shittin’, faggot. Word...Go getcha guns.” One part “LA, LA,” one part “Stake Is High,” what follows basically reiterates this point that New York rappers are letting the West herb them and Flush is available to distribute open hand slaps, you know, for the culture. Maybe not the most nuanced record to be released in 1996, it perfectly articulated a sense of myopic frustration harbored by his borough’s thug rappers, and their fans. “Worldwide, worldwide, wherever beef is startin’ / keep your mind on Queens when the dogs start barkin’.” Bow wow wow, yipee yo ki yay. Motherfuckers. —Noah Callahan-Bever

Album: Da Storm

After making their name teaming up with fellow Boot Camp Clik members Smif N' Wessun on "Sound Bwoy Buriel" and Heltah Skeltah on "Leflaur Leflah Eshkoshka," Originoo Gunn Clappaz struck out on their own with 1996's "Da Storm." The lead single from the Brownsville trio, "No Fear," delivered a strong message in contrast with its laid-back vibe, even taking a shot at Biggie—"I scare, petty MC's who claim they got gats/Fronting with hoes in videos with pimp hats" who was mocked in the video by a fat stand-in in a Coogi. Starang Wondah, Louieville Sluggah and Top Dog never made the same impact as their Brooklyn brethren, but they certainly lived up to their name. —Russ Bengtson

Album: The LP

It’s wild how things that should happen just don’t, right? For example, you’d think that a solo album from Harlem's Large Professor—the creative force behind Main Source and one of the producers behind Nas’ Illmatic, with production credits for everyone from Eric B and Rakim to A Tribe Called Quest at the time—would automatically get the greenlight and hit the public...right? Nope! After the release of this working man, get money anthem, The LP, which was set to drop in 1996 on MCA ended up being shelved indefinitely, was Extra P’s opus. Back in 1996, a single from The LP was released, lead by the jazzy “I Juswanna Chill" that ended up getting some burn on the radio and club circuits, but ultimately wasn't enough to get his label (Geffen at the time) interested. Odd considering that his M.O. at the time was written right into the title. —khal

Album: Dr. Octagonecologyst

Kool Keith and his compatriots' Dr. Octagon project hit at the exactly right time. Produced by underground legend Dan the Automator (with scratches from Invisibl Skratch Piklz DJ Qbert), Keith was able to fully let his freak flag fly, writing a space-y, sex-filled trek through the diabolical mind of Dr. Octagon, an intergalactic gynecologist. Seriously, this happened, but this weird album with an unheard of premise found a way to blend in trip-hop, psychedelic landscapes, and Keith’s unorthodox everything into one of the most captivating albums for heads who loved the pillars of hip-hop but were also truly disturbed individuals. “Blue Flowers,” the album’s third single, showcased three artists at the top of their respective crafts daring to be VERY different. 3000!!! —khal

Album: Episodes of a Hustla​

Big Noyd is nothing if not urgent. From the first utterance on his unforgettable introduction, “What up, cousin?”—on Mobb Deep’s “Give Up the Goods (Just Step)”—Noyd’s distict high pitch grabs listeners by the teeth. Followed, and complemented, by his careening cadence and violent visuals the verse was an instant classic. So when he and the Mobb reconnected the following year on Noyd’s first single, “Recognize & Realize,” they aimed to rekindle the same magic, and did they ever.

Uptempo with spare bass hits and a haunting vocal sample—a trope producer Havoc would exploit again and again on the group’s ‘96 album Hell on Earth—Noyd jumps on the one and lets loose with exquisite dunn language: “The trife life of living famous/bussin’ shots live is dangerous, at midnight, we do it right in clear blue light… Mad agony havin’ me more vex/got me pullin’ out techs on opposite sex, the cream got me fiend.” Dude was under more pressure than Bowie and Mercury, lawdamercy! Peak Prodigy follows, moving effortlessly around the track’s quick clip. With more commas than Mark Zuckerberg and only modest regard for rhyme scheme, each line lands like a hammer. “It’s the P, me and N-O-Y-D/put our cheddar together, so could double up O-Zs, and grow like a family tree, and bean stalks/some hustlers, naturally born with street smarts.” Quintessential Mobb music, “Recognize & Realize” may not have shifted the landscape, but it is nonetheless a perfect snapshot of the QB at it’s finest. Now what's fuckin' with that? —Noah Callahan-Bever

Album: The Resurrection

After a messy breakup, the Geto Boys returned in 1996 with The Resurrection, arguably the best album the group ever recorded. Reuniting the core lineup of Scarface, Willie D and Bushwick Bill, the Geto Boys combined their well-known horrorcore brand with a newfound sense of seriousness and self-awareness. They crept onto the Billboard charts once again with “The World is a Ghetto,” a song that flipped the script on their gangsta rap sensibilities by offering a scathing lyrical indictment of living conditions in inner-city Houston, Texas, rather than a violence-riddled glorification of it. It even connected the imagery to a larger statement on the world’s lack of consideration for the lives of black people. “They call my neighborhood a jungle/And me an animal, like they do to people in Rwanda/Fools fleeing their countries to come here black/But see the same bullshit and head right back,” raps Bushwick Bill. At a time when most eyes were on the coastal rivalry, the Geto Boys broke through the noise and helped assure southern rap continued to have a place at the table. Angry and politically charged, “The World is a Ghetto” stands up with the best of the group’s music. —Chris Mench

Album: At The Speed Of Life

Xzibit's got plenty of thumping, Aftermath g-funk hits to his credits. His earliest, underground, very best songs, however, were rather extravagant appproximations of gangsta ballet. I'm thinking of "What U See Is What U Get" and "The Foundation," of course, as well as "Paparazzi," the lead single from Xzibit's debut album, At the Speed Of Life. "Paparazzi," produced by longtime collaborator Thayod Ausar, is the most rapturous and pacific of all those songs; the late director Michael Lucero even hired a seaside symphony for the music video. At this point his career, Xzibit was as jaded as Prodigy and as anti-social as Treach, but with a sympathetic fondness for New Testament verses and wise solidarity. In 1996, Xzibit was at his best, if not his biggest. "I don’t need no lights, no cameras," he rapped. "Just action." —Justin Charity

Album: Firing Squad

You can argue about the greatest DJ Premier beats of all time (perhaps unsurprisingly, we have), but if you want to talk about the greatest peak-era Premo pairing with a rapper or rappers, then I'm nominating "Downtown Swinga '96" (granted that's a somewhat limiting set of guidelines, but let me live). Start with the stutter-step drum intro: it actually sounds like the gunplay Billy Danze and Lil' Fame describe in many of their rhymes, a bit of aural onomatopoeia that's both funky and chilingly suggestive. Then there's that gutbucket clavinet line. Yeah, the sample's off an album called The Chicago Theme, and yeah, it's underpinning the raps of a couple dudes from Brownsville, Brooklyn, but that's all Houston—its author, Hubert Laws, is, like Premier, from Texas' largest city. That Danzinie and Fame didn't technically make any hits with Premier is entirely beside the point: hardcore raps were undoubtedly reintroduced to the atmosphere thanks to this pairing, in a song that hits (and slaps and smacks and kicks and punches in the temple, sternum, and groin) in every sense of the word. —Jack Erwin

Album: Muddy Waters

New Jersey’s Redman is your favorite MC’s favorite MC, and had already been slaying boomboxes with his first two albums (1992's Whut? Thee Album and 1994's Dare Iz a Darkside) by the time his critically-acclaimed Muddy Waters hit in 1996. The album’s second single, the Erick Sermon-produced “Whateva Man,” found Red and E doing what they do best: getting you “open like buttcheeks” with their smoked out tracks. Red had a way of blending hilarious punchlines with the verbal dexterity that influenced greats like Eminem while delivering stoner comedy like a modern day Cheech to Method Man's Chong. And while Redman’s worked with the best, there’s a wave that he and Sermon ride that makes them form like Voltron and become indestructible. If you’ve got 10 on it, and are ready to guzzle this liquor, this is THE soundtrack for your chilled afternoons. —khal

Album: The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory

Taken from 2Pac’s fifth studio album (and first posthumous release) The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory, “Hail Mary” showed how well 2Pac could blend the macabre with the melodic, bringing sing-song-y hooks over the ominous production. It was a carol for real G’s. Even if Pac admits that he isn’t a killer, adding “but don’t push me” showcases how far he was at his wits end. With all of the beef and controversy surrounding 2Pac, tracks like "Hail Mary" highlight the thugged out, middle finger in the air 'Pac that was ready for war against any and all who stood in his way. There’s some paranoia mixed in with his usual braggadocios nature, and by adopting a stage name after Niccolò Machiavelli, Pac accidentally gave fans even more fuel to feed the “Pac faked his death” conspiracy theories. —khal

Album: Piece of Mind

An underappreciated gem from Tela’s debut album Piece of Mind, “Sho Nuff” sounds like something straight out of Pimp C’s rhymebook. Dirty and raunchy, Tela, alongside fellow Memphis natives 8 Ball and MJG, paint a typical night in the club, where tricks are shaking it and showing love with barely anything on. These guys know better though, and keep their distance. “No different from the rest, she’s just an ordinary ho/Hair extensions, long nails, ass thicker than gumbo,” raps 8Ball. MJG more or less says the same in his verse, calling out women who pay no mind until he got famous. It shouldn’t come at a surprise that the video itself illustrates their lyrics—bottle service, women partying in the VIP, and money thrown everywhere. It's just that ‘90s gaudy life. What a time. —Eric Diep

Album: It Was Written

Foxy Brown’s controversial math aside, “Affirmative Action” is arguably the best posse cut ever recorded and laid the foundation for the Firm’s formation. Unfortunately the group could never top this and their album failed to meet expectations. Still, this track showed so much promise. The strings in the beginning could’ve been featured in a Scorsese flick and AZ’s intro could’ve been a monologue written by Tarantino. Cinematic music was a Trackmasters staple during this period and having a crew of some of the best lyricists in the game made their job to paint a picture of sounds that much easier. Sosa, Escobar, Cormega, and Foxy Brown was a dangerous syndicate with mafia raps galore and this song was their calling card. AZ’s opening bars, “Yo sit back, relax, catch ya contact, sip your cognac, and let's all wash this money through this laundry mat,” are some of the most quoted bars ever as is Nas’ “Yo, my mind is seeing through your design like blind fury.” —Angel Diaz

Album: Wrath of the Math

In 1996, the jiggy era of hip-hop was in full swing, with the rough and rugged look of hip-hop being replaced by lavish, Dom P sippin' rappers replacing the more backpack, underground sounds that New York was used to. It was this complex that Brooklyn, New York's Jeru The Damaja was trying to combat, backed by the sample-heavy sound boom bap of DJ Premier. Taken from his second album, Wrath of the Math, lead single “Ya Playin’ Yaself” kept it real over a sample from The New Birth that was ironically used by The Notorious B.I.G.'s Junior M.A.F.I.A. on their huge 1995 single "Player's Anthem," detailing everything about the rap game that he hated. Twenty years before DJ Khaled turned “you played yourself” into a major meme, Jeru wanted black women to know their worth, wanted guys to stop snitching on record, and for everyone to stop buying into the Big Willie Style of the day. —khal

Album: Tried By 12

East Flatbush Project is an interesting story; coming from the brainchild of Brooklyn-based producer Spencer Bellamy, the project has one album and a handful of singles to its credit since 1994, each with different Brooklyn-based MCs. "Tried By 12" featured De$ who, while not the most lyrical rapper out there, ultimately held his own on what should be seen as the epitome of backpack underground rap. That cracking Al Green drum sample paired with that perfect string loop from Odetta’s “Sakura” turned into a staple of basement ciphers the world over... so much so that it was not only licensed for international re-released by the legendary Coldcut's Ninja Tune imprint, but it became the instrumental that the Shady Records crew murdered 15 years later during their BET Hip-Hop Awards cipher. It’ll be hard to find people who know the track after the first verse, but that instrumental? Timeless. —khal

Album: The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory

"Look for me, lost in the whirlwind." It doesn't take a degree in psychiatry to read "Me and My Girlfriend" as a window into the chaotic last year of Tupac's life. Beset by enemies both real and imagined, and both external and internal to his own clique, 'Pac raps with evident distress about his "girlfriend," who is, of course, not a flesh-and-blood human, but a gun. Nas had done the gun anthropomorphism thing earlier in the year with "I Gave You Power," but 'Pac's manic energy and tragic death gave the concept even more poignance (plus 'Pac didn't insult his audience by explaining the metaphor—"It's like I'm a motherfucking gun"—at the top of the song). It's an angry track, fueled by a desperation that in hindsight feels heartbreaking, giving the distinct impression that one of the greatest musicians of the 20th century died without much in the way of true friends. —Jack Erwin

Album: Ironman

Ghostface Killah had the first lines on the first verse of the first track on Wu-Tang's first album: "Ghostface catch the blast of a hype verse/My Glock burst, leave in a hearse, I did worse." Compare and contrast that to "All That I Got is You," the biggest single off his first solo record, a tribute to his mother driven by a Jackson 5 sample and a Mary J. Blige hook. No glorification of violence here, just a chronicle of project life with four in the bed ("Two at the foot, two in the head"), roaches in the cereal and brothers with muscular dystrophy. The bleak origin story—and unexpectedly soulful style—added depth to the identity of the Wu's most mysterious member, transforming him from Raekwon's plus-one to a star in his own right. —Russ Bengtson

Album: The Final Tic

Chicago-based MC Common had already touched the world of hip-hop, showcasing the Southside of Chicago's heavy New York influence when it came to lyricism and sound, but it was Crucial Conflict (who hailed from the Westside of Chicago) that ended up going gold—a sales figure that far exceeded Common. With a sound that had a heavier Los Angeles influence while embracing their "country" roots, Crucial Conflict took it a step further and added an Old West aesthetic to their slang, which birthed the intoxicating mix you see on their classic single "Hay." Instead of deep with lyrics and metaphors, CC was getting lit “in the middle of the barn” to an undeniably bouncy track. Hip-hop has a plethora of weed-burning anthems, but “Hay” might be one of the most underrated gems to hit that sector of the spectrum. If you see smoke coming from the barn, you know what they’re smoking on. —khal

Album: Illadelph Halflife

In 1996, there were two sides of hip-hop that were waging war for your headphones: the Cristal-popping, flashy rappers and the more lowkey, underground, “do it for the art” cats. Philadelphia-based hip-hop group The Roots, at the time, were a band (!) that at the time were signed to Geffen and getting more love in Europe than in America by sticking to their guns and bigging up the foundation of hip-hop like none other. Never ones to sugarcoat his thoughts, lead MC Black Thought penned some cautionary rhymes about staying true to self and not sinking into the traps of gaining fame by selling yourself to record companies. The song itself was a great breakdown of the climate in 1996, but the video, which perfectly showcased all of the stereotypical rap shoots of the day, ruffled some feathers, including a beef between The Notorious B.I.G. that unfortunately never got resolved before his passing. —khal

Album: Soul On Ice

Ras Kass was supposed to be the artist that proved the West Coast could compete with the best of New York's lyricists, but when his debut album Soul On Ice dropped, something didn't quite connect. The rhymes were good, but over B-list beats, it wasn't the game-changer that many were expecting, and it ended up caught in the middle ground between California's gangsta rap fans and New York's Nas and Biggie heads, not totally pleasing either camp. Dismayed by the outcome, Ras reached out to Diamond D, who remixed the album's title track, lacing it with menacing, high-level production of squealing strings and a simple guitar chord. Embolden by the changes, Ras Kass stepped into the booth and laid down a fire new verse. "I'm spitting razor sharp quotes/Trying to slit the pope's throat," he rapped. Although it didn't even make the main pressing of the album, "Soul on Ice (Remix)" was the Ras Kass track that everyone was waiting for, and it finally proved that his unique brand of West Coast lyricism could live up to the hype. —Chris Mench

Album: Hell On Earth

"Blood on my kicks, shit on my knife" is the sort of PTSD recollection that's long made listening to Mobb Deep a stressful, if wonderful, experience. After releasing their sophomore, breakout album, The Infamous, in the spring of 1995—the very best rap album of that year, in fact—Hell on Earth expanded Mobb Deep's sphere of influence while still a close-knit circle, including Nas, Big Noyd, and the Wu. "It took us two years to make that album because of all the death that was happening around us," Prodigy once told Complex. "It sounds like some dark, hardcore, grimy shit." The second single from Hell On Earth, "Front Lines," is indeed some of the bleakest street rap you'll ever hear, coupled with a beat that reeks of alcoholism. In a year when New York hip-hop reclaimed much of the genre dominance that the East Coast previously lost to g-funk, Havoc scored the city's post-apocalyptic resurgence with the dimest of twinkling keys. —Justin Charity

Album: Mr. Smith

Built around a sample of Grace Jones’ “My Jamaican Guy,” LL Cool J’s raunchy single “Doin’ It” was a big Billboard success at the top of the year. Cool J recruited Brooklyn rapper LeShaun, and the pair traded bars about their sexual desire for each other over a famous echo of “Go Brooklyn!” Although she rapped in the song, the pregnant LeShaun was replaced by a model in the video, who lip-synced her part. Interestingly, in a bit of intra-city rivalry, the beat was actually meant for the Notorious B.I.G.’s Life After Death (hence the “Go Brooklyn” chant despite LL being from Queens), but LL swiped it out from under him, reportedly infuriating Puff Daddy at the time. LL Cool J cracked the Billboard Hot 100’s Top 10 with his over-sexed Mr. Smith single, the success of which helped his sixth album to go double platinum. —Chris Mench

Album: Uptown Saturday Night

There are a number of rap tracks that get over with their instrumentals, while some find rappers who breathe life into the beats they’re given. The Ski-produced “Luchini” blessed Camp Lo just as much as they blessed the instrumental. The duo emerged onto the scene drenched in '70s apparel, paying homage to the blaxploitation era while running circles around the Dynasty loops. Similar to a slick-talking pimp, Sonny Cheeba and Geechi Suede had their own lingo and flowery delivery; it was hard to pick up what they were spitting over this triumphant track, but everything fit perfectly. Get rich to this. —khal

Album: The Score

Back when The Fugees were still together and becoming iconic figures in music, their final album The Score was highly influential because it married two sides of the sonic spectrum: reggae and hip-hop. Without songs like “Fu-Gee-La,” you wouldn’t see an explosion of artists sampling reggae tunes or collaborating with the genre’s sought-after talent years later. “Fu-Gee-La” is the perfect fusion of both worlds—Salaam Remi’s bouncy production, Lauryn Hill’s lyrical dexterity, and Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel’s reggae-tinged flows all in one. To top it off, Hill interpolates Teena Marie’s “Ooo La La La” into an earworm hook that’s irresistible. When you think of this album, it’s “Killing me Softly,” “Ready or Not” and “Fu-Gee-La” that get mentioned as favorites almost every time. With the album celebrating its 20th anniversary this year, “Fu-Gee-La” is hands down an undisputed classic that sounds just as refreshing today.—Eric Diep

Album: Hard Core

A little over a year after her flawless appearance on Junior M.A.F.I.A.’s “Get Money,” Lil Kim’s debut single “No Time” dropped, featuring a hypnotizing chorus and verse from Puff Daddy. Over production from Stevie J, Kim takes the braggadocios to new heights; her verses were relentlessly seductive. With a chorus about not wasting time on anyone not at her level, she also comes through with the ever explicit line, “Before you nut, I'mma dribble down your butt cheeks/Make you wiggle, then giggle just a little I'm drinkin babies, then I cracks for the Mercedes.” But it’s the samples of Vicki Anderson's "Message from the Soul Sisters" and Lyn Collins's "Take Me Just As I Am" layered beneath her verses that defined a sound in ’96; a soulful sample of major piano chords and funk, with verses more boastful that even some of her male peers. —Lauren Nostro

Album: Ice Cream Man

In August, Jay Z made a TIDAL playlist called "Summer Sauce 2," a mix of old and new schools; East Coast, West Coast, and Southern. Given all we know about Hov's regionally eclectic sensibilities, and his own roots in the mid-90s, it comes as minimal surprise that a rare, c-suite Jay Z playlist for the summer would—no, must—include "Bout It, Bout It," the earliest hit from No Limit Records, the powerhouse indie label that put "3rd Ward, Uptown, Calliope" on the map. "Bout It, Bout It" is a morbid, post-Eazy, post-Geto Boys sort of groove, with the four-wheeling sort of growls from Percy that you'd never mistake for anything other than Dirty. As for Mia X, the insurgent star of this show: she kept a shank in sock and a bullet in her mouth. Long live a boss bitch. —Justin Charity

Album: Ridin' Dirty

UGK never released "Murder" as a single—they didn't release anything off Ridin' Dirty as a single, for that matter—and the Port Arthur duo of Bun B and Pimp C still sold 850K copies just off the strength. "Murder" is just two verses, Pimp C then Bun B, over a relentless beat, laying out the realities of the drug game. Pimp C lays it all out mathematically—"Got the pounds going for 4 cause you know I just pay 2/Nigga bought 30 from me So I front him 42" before Bun B closes out with a verse that's one giant hip-hop quotable from start to finish—"Now as my pockets thicken/I be kickin' nickel slickin' you sick when I be clickin'." Underground kings indeed. —Russ Bengtson

Album: Put It in Your Mouth

What do you expect from a guy whose debut album was called Vagina Diner? “Put It in Your Mouth” is as crass as rap gets, with not-so-clever lyrics—“Get on your knees, make like the breeze, begin to blow”—delivered sloppily over a pretty basic beat driven mostly by an acoustic guitar sampled from jazz-funk band Brick’s 1977 song “Fun” and drums from Al Green’s “I’m Glad You’re Mine.” It’s raw and one-dimensional, but it’s so fucking catchy, and the juxtaposition of the lighthearted tone and the sexually explicit lyrics gives the song a kitschy charm. “Put It in Your Mouth” earned Akinyele’s EP of the same name a spot on the Billboard 200, but it was a one-off hit for the Queens rapper, who never achieved much success in music again. He did, however, find another way to cash in on his passion by investing in successful strip clubs across the country. Go figure. —Jacob Moore

Album: Picture This

One of the stereotypes of Chicago rap in the mid-'90s was the idea of hyperspeed flows over laidback grooves, which stemmed from Twista's success. Those vibes manifested themselves in Do Or Die's first single single, "Po Pimp," which featured Johnny P's "do you wanna riiiiide" hook that helped set the mood for the summer of '96, burning the Billboard Hot 100 charts as well as the radios from coast to coast. And while Do Or Die held their own with the fast raps, no one touched Twista's clean-up verse. Syrupy smooth. —khal

Album: Legal Drug Money

"Renee" is an all-time great rap love song; it's an all-time great narrative rap song; it's an all-time great tragic rap song. In short, it's a classic, showcasing a skilled wordsmith at the top of his game. One part young romance (dropped rolling papers is a pretty great meet cute), one part summation of youthful ambition (yes, law students smoke weed), and one part indictment of random gun violence, "Renee" is dense with description, a rappity-rap fan's rap song. It's both evocative of its time (raise your hand if you know what tokens and cds are) and timeless. If you want to show someone what made rap music feel so alive in 1996—or any other year—play this song. —Jack Erwin

Album: Bow Down

Ice Cube got his rap start in a group, so it should have come as no surprise that once his post-NWA solo career took off he'd form another one. Westside Connection, which consisted of Cube, Mack 10 and WC, dropped tracks on Mack and WC's solo joints before putting out lead single "Bow Down" in August of 1996. A driving beat from producer Bud'da backed aggro verses from each of the trio stating their supremacy, tied together with the hook "Bow down to some niggas that's greater than you." Westside Connection wouldn't last long, putting out just two LPs, but "Bow Down"—which hit No. 1 on the rap charts—stands as a certified piece of gangsta history. —Russ Bengtson

Album: Beats, Rhymes and Life

For A Tribe Called Quest, 1996 was an important year. Three years had passed since the release of 1993's Midnight Marauders, arguably the best album from the jazzy New York-based collective in an already-historic career. Getting back in the studio to follow-up such a masterpiece? That’s a grip of pressure to put on anyone, but judging by “1nce Again,” it didn’t feel like Q-Tip, Phife Dawg, and Ali were feeling it. Their sound was a bit crisper, thanks to the addition of the late, great Jay Dee on production (his first for the crew), but his swing fit their sample-heavy sound like a glove, allowing Phife and Tip to focus their pens properly. While the full project was Tribe’s darkest release at the time (no doubt mirroring the inner conflicts they were going through at the time), “1nce Again” was one of the brightest—and best—from the album. —khal

Album: The War Report

Few things define 1996 more than the East Coast/West Coast rivalry, and few songs embody that rivalry better than “L.A. L.A.” by Capone-N-Noreaga. Tha Dogg Pound released their East Coast diss track “New York, New York” in Nov. 1995, complete with a video of them kicking over NYC’s famous buildings. Capone-N-Noreaga decided to snap back right away with “L.A. L.A.” Over Marly Marl’s production, the pair (along with Mobb Deep and Tragedy Khadafi) come for California’s neck. “L.A., L.A. big city of dreams/But everything in L.A. ain’t always what it seems,” rang out the chorus before a host of talented Big Apple rappers fired shots at their West Coast rival. Most controversially, the song’s music video depicts the rappers kidnapping members of Tha Dogg Pound and dropping them off a bridge in New York. At a time when coastal tensions were running high, “L.A. L.A.” threw even more fuel on the fire, setting the two rap scenes up for a deadly collision course just months later. —Chris Mench

Album: Reasonable Doubt

After the success of his street single "Dead Presidents," Jay proved he could make a radio hit with "Ain't No Nigga." While navigating the underground under the wings of Jaz-O and Big Daddy Kane, Jigga and friends were funneling drug money into a record label, paying producers and contributors with sneaker boxes full of cash to get their indie label off the ground. They eventually made a partnership with Def Jam. With a powerhouse label now behind him, Jay started sowing the seeds to his empire. His new label pushed the single by placing it on Eddie Murphey's Nutty Professor soundtrack. This helped Jay's second single take over video channels and the radio, and introduced the world to an 18-year-old rapper named Foxy Brown. Both blew up after this track and was the start of beautiful musical relationship; Jay and Fox were Def Jam's answer to Bad Boy's Biggie and Lil Kim. —Angel Diaz

Album: All Eyez On Me

In a lot of ways, “How Do U Want It” was the icing on the cake of 2pac’s early-1996 success. As the third single from All Eyez On Me, the song followed the chart-topping reign of “California Love” with its own No. 1 spot on the Billboard Hot 100. Not only is Pac at his raunchy best, but he also recruits Jodeci singers K-Ci and JoJo for a dynamite hook. He even has the balls to call out Bill Clinton and Bob Dole for being “too old to understand the way the game is told/You’re lame so I gotta hit you with the hot facts.” Not only was the song a commercial success, but it nabbed the California legend one of his final three Grammy nominations before his murder, competing against its own A-Side “California Love” in the Best Rap Duo or Group category. “How Do U Want It” stands up (in a stacked catalog) as one of 2pac’s best. —Chris Mench

Album: ATLiens

It has always been obvious that OutKast was ahead of their time, but almost 20 years after its release, “Elevators” makes it easy to hear how forward-thinking the Atlanta duo really was. The song was OutKast’s first single off their second album ATLiens, and it was a step forward from the Southernplayalistic slick talk of their debut. With nimble rapping and skillful storytelling, the young rappers—barely in their 20's at the time—got more honest, detailing the lives of two struggling artists trying to find success amidst jealousy and misconceptions. The sparseness of "Elevators" was a huge departure from the layered richness that was hallmark of their first album. Lyrically, it was relatable and down-to-earth, but sonically, “Elevators” was out of this world. It was like the laid-back, Southern soul of Goodie Mob floating in orbit. In the decades following the release of this song, we’ve heard a lot of rappers brag about being from outer space, but few have taken us as high as OutKast with 1996’s most hypnotizing rap song. —Jacob Moore

Album: Stakes Is High

De La Soul and the Native Tongues were getting fed up with rap’s love affair with crime, sex, and excess, so they set out on a mission to bring more attention to the “conscience” side of things. But the production was really the star of the show in this instance; J Dilla’s beats were made under the influence of a higher power, something not of this realm. The Ahmad Jamal “Swahililand” piano sample controls your spirit as soon as the track begins while the deep bass takes over your soul. Stakes Is High, the crew’s fourth album, marked the first time they produced a record without Prince Paul’s assistance. The title track introduced their mission statement and new musical direction, and while Pos had more problems with the East Coast/West Coast beef, Dave’s critiques of the current state of the game were the harshest as he rapped about everybody all of sudden living the life of John Gotti. The stakes are always high when dealing with the decline of a culture. —Angel Diaz

Album: The Coming

After not only being the break-out star of Leaders of the New School, and a classic guest verse on A Tribe Called Quest’s “Scenario,” it was only a matter of time that the Brooklyn-born megaton bomb known as Busta Rhymes was going to blow up. When word of his first solo album, The Coming, hit the streets, people eagerly anticipated the first glimpse from the album... who was ready for “Woo Hah!! (Got You All In Check),” though? The Rashad "Ringo" Smith-produced track shot to No. 8 on the Billboard Hot 100 while also impacting the charts in the UK and New Zealand. From the QUIRKY Gail MacDermot sample to the brightly colored Hype Williams video, this was the dawn of the outrageous Busta that changed the landscape of the way hip-hop was presented in 1996 and beyond. A true rap gamechanger. —khal

Album: The Score

The Fugees’ “Killing Me Softly” was the trio’s first and most popular single from The Score, but it wasn’t until “Ready Or Not” that the full scope of their talents was really put on display. The song includes rapped verses from all three members, plus an unforgettable chorus lifted from The Delfonics’ “Ready Or Not Here I Come” and delivered soulfully by Lauryn Hill. It also features the best Enya sample (from “Boadicea”) of all time. Like much of the East Coast hip-hop from the ‘90s, “Ready or Not” was rough around the edges, informed by the harsh realities of life in the ghetto. But instead of relying on fictitious tough talk, the song harnessed that energy for positive, referencing the strength of Bob Marley, Muhammad Ali, and Haitian refugees passing through Guantanamo Bay. “So while you're imitating Al Capone,” Ms. Hill raps with supreme confidence on verse two, “I’ll be Nina Simone, and defecating on your microphone.” —Jacob Moore

Album: E. 1999 Eternal

For Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, "Tha Crossroads" was the breakthrough moment for the Ohio crew; once they hit the mainstream, they never looked back. To this day, this 1996 hit single is still the highest charting song of their tenure, and brought a Grammy, among other monumental accolades, to the group. From the flip of the Isley Brothers' "Make Me Say It Again Girl," to the classic harmonizing that will still blow you away, "Tha Crossroads" is one of those songs that will also bring you back to a moment in time and reflect. The ode to lost loved ones is a tearjerker from all angles, as the group exerts a vulnerable side of themselves, while maintaining the essence of their gangsta rap roots. Each member—Bizzy, Krayzie, Layzie, and Wish—gets very personal on their verses, with lines about fallen friends and memories of those lost. For instance, it's hard not to feel for Wish when he raps about the death of his Uncle Charles, or when Bizzy name-drops Eazy-E during the first verse. The song is a moment in rap history when the gangsta era showed a different, and open side, and proved with the success that it's a formula to the top.  —Zach Frydenlund

Album: Reasonable Doubt

The original version of “Dead Presidents” never made Jay’s debut Reasonable Doubt, but “Dead Presidents II” did and served as the sequel to his promo street single. With alternate lyrics, Jay hopped on the mafioso wave that was consuming the rap scene at the time. Over a beautiful piano sample from Lonnie Smith’s “A Garden of Peace,” Jigga delivers Roc-A-Fella’s thesis. He had a different aura about him that demanded instant respect from his peers; the Roc’s do-it-yourself bravado is what made Biggie gravitate towards Jay’s inner circle. The Nas sample ended up biting him in the ass later down the road, however, his early career references to the God MC were ultimately a show of respect. “Dead Presidents II” could’ve been taught in finance classes; it's an exercise in astute accounting and its lines about stacking bread are spoken amongst hustlers trying to make something of themselves. “Stack chedda forever, live treacherous, all the et ceteras.” —Angel Diaz

Album: It Was Written

At a time when Nas was coming off Illmatic, his second album felt like he officially arrived with his empowering single “If I Ruled the World (Imagine That).” Over a sample of Kurtis Blow's "If I Ruled the World," Nas and then-Fugees member Lauryn Hill envision a world where you get to smoke weed without breaking any laws, poverty is gone, and your whole crew is living good in mansions. Their collaboration is the best form of motivation that's found in lines like, “If I ruled the world and everything in it, sky’s the limit/I push a Q-45 Infinit(i)/It wouldn’t be no such thing as jealousies or B Felonies/Strictly living longevity to the destiny.” But more than anything, this was the commercial hit Nas needed; he'd conquered the underground and respect with his debut, but now he gained a Grammy nom and his first Billboard hit. We need songs like this to keep our spirits high, and “If Ruled the World” still accomplishes this with every listen. —Eric Diep

Album: All Eyez on Me

The controversial West Cost enigma known as 2Pac was already a star before he’d joined Death Row (he already dropped classics like “Dear Mama” from his 1995 album Me Against the World, which was released while he was imprisoned), but the first single after his release from jail had to make a serious statement. "California Love," the Dr. Dre-produced lead single from his massively-successful double CD opus All Eyez On Me was it. The party-starting G-Funk anthem was not only Pac’s most successful single ever, but ended up being his most well-known. Dre’s known for helping put Cali hip-hop on the map, and his Midas touch turned into this certified heater for Pac. It’s one of those tracks that not only gets the club hype when it drops, but doubled as a statement about the next era of Death Row, and became a de facto anthem for Cali. —khal

Want more from The 1996 Project? Visit the links below.

"Talkin’  Bout Houston: Bun B and ESG Remember the Year the City Broke Out"

"Never Change: Is Jay Z the Same Rapper He Was 20 Years Ago?"

"Back Issues: The Real Story Behind ‘VIBE’’s East vs. West Cover"