Kanye West's Best Songs That Weren't Singles

Album: 808s & Heartbreak

Even without the Herbie Hancock parts (the song leaked before he could lay down his part), "Robocop" remains a flagship song for Kanye. It's a perfect representation of his ability to straddle two worlds: "Robocop" follows the decidedly electronic/808-dominated "Paranoid," and it sounds like Kanye's going to get stuck in these programs forever, then—strings on strings on strings, injecting a real heartfelt vibe into the song and, eventually, the whole album.

It's a poignant reminder that yeah, he might be cold and heartbroken ("you spoiled little LA girl"), but Kanye's still a human being that is laying his personal, still-raw pain out in front of you.—Graham Corrigan

Album: Graduation

Today, rap airs out its dirty laundry on the 'gram, Twitter, or via some viral radio interview. But not too long ago, rappers took it to their albums, letting the world hear what was on their mind, for good or ill. On one of 'Ye's most honest, introspective cuts on his life as a rapper, 'Ye explains his history with Jay, and it's pretty fucking interesting. His career at this time was blowing up with every song, but he was still feeling slighted. Not to the point where he wanted to leave the Roc, but like any "little brother," Kanye was on some "wait, what about me?" shit. "Have you ever walked in the shadow of the giant?" means something more when that giant is also your boss—a boss that happens to be one of the greatest to ever do it.

"Big Brother" is an ode to the competition that brews underneath the smiles and daps. At the end of the day, it's all love; it's a man working closely with his idol, someone who he's still competing against, someone who he loves like a brother, even when his brother pisses him off. This is the Kanye that many of us miss.—khal

Album: Yeezus

Not sure about you, but this noisy, abrasive Yeezus cut was an instant rewind for weirdos like me. It's one of those tracks that perfectly embodies what 'Ye was doing on this challenging project. Not too many rappers can get Daft Punk, Brodinski, Arca, Mike Dean, and Gesaffelstein on one cut, let alone throw a local hero like Chicago's King L on it and make it work. Then again, not too many artists are like Kanye.

With Yeezus, Kanye found a way to blend the ignorant with the excellent. At its core, "Send It Up" is a moment in time. It's the clarity of a cloudy mind, standing in the middle of the most turnt event ever. Sirens blazing, asses shaking, strobes blinking. Life is on tilt, and you like it... then you feed off it. In that moment, Kanye's just worried about bragging that your girls can get in the club if you can get his Benz in the club. This isn't bars at the fashion world, nor is there a contemplative tone in anything. This is futuristic turn up music for inebriated warriors.—khal

Album: Late Registration

During Kanye’s first Storytellers special on VH1, he explained that the sample used on “Roses” is actually a Bill Withers song called “Rosie.” The line, “I smile when Rosie comes to see me,” made him think about when all of his relatives traveled from near and far to see his dying grandmother in the hospital, making all of them the “roses.” For anyone who watched that special, it’s almost impossible to detach the memory of Kanye’s passionate explanation from the song itself.

On its surface, it’s easy to tell that “Roses” is a sweet, heartfelt song. But with each listen it gets more personal and meaningful. The instrumentation and production on Late Registration as a whole is beautiful but “Roses” in particular finds a perfect balance of emotions. At certain points, it sounds as soothing as a lullaby but then those mixed emotions are immediately washed away with a more cheerful and comforting chorus. This is an ode to his grandmother and a song of comfort for him and his family. If anything, we should be happy that Kanye wanted to share such an intimate moment with all of us.—Adrienne Black

Album: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Much of the production on Kanye's early work was based around his unique use of old-school samples. West tweaked soul classics by slowing them down or pitching them differently to add an extra layer of depth to his work. He returns to this sound in a triumphant way on "Devil in a New Dress." On the My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy standout, West and producer Bink! rework Smokey Robinson's "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow," pitching up the vocals to create a lush, angelic, and soulful backdrop suitable for West to flex about love and loss.

Though to reduce the story in "Devil in a New Dress" to just love and loss, would be an understatement. While the song finds West crafting some of his wittier lines ("I hit the Jamaican spot, at the bar, take a seat / I ordered the jerk, she said you are what you eat"), it deals with subjects much more complex. We once again hear West's distrust of women, writing them off as evil temptresses and gold diggers. But we also hear West's internal struggle of finding a balance between arrogance and confidence ("Hood phenomenon, the LeBron of rhyme / Hard to be humble when you stunting on a jumbotron"), a battle which landed at the forefront of his self-exploration on MBDTF in the aftermath of his public meltdown.—Katie K

Album: Yeezus

Leave it to Kanye West to look at someone like Chief Keef and think, "Yeah, that's who I want singing the hook on this." And leave it to Kanye West to make it work. Nestled among the more frenetic production weaved throughout Yeezus is "Hold My Liquor," where West takes a break from the rest of the album's aggressiveness to lament about a failed attempt to woo an ex-lover back.

But make no mistake here. While production and delivery wise this is arguably the calmest track on Yeezus, lyrically West isn't subtle. He's still approaching sex, love, and ego with a harshness that mirrors his tone in the album's other tracks. "Hold My Liquor" showed the range West could achieve within one cohesive theme, giving Yeezus a complex depth many hip-hop releases fall short of achieving.—Katie K

Album: Graduation

Graduation is a mix of stadium-sized anthems and more introspective moments, and "The Glory" is one of the most uplifting songs on the project. How could you not feel good for Kanye as "talks his shit again?" Referencing his rap contemporaries (Weezy, Jeezy), hip-hop legends (Big L, Big Pun, Biggie), and lots of luxury fashion brands, the bars about chicks, chains, and cars, are laid over a beautifully soulful sample of Laura Nyro's "Save the Country."

Kanye has a lot of good bars about why he's the shit, and this song has some of the best of them.—Joyce

Album: Late Registration

Besides containing one of Kanye's best closing verses ever, "Gone" is a look at future Kanye: the Otis Redding sample, the mammoth orchestral builds, and his eventual role as an inspiration to aspiring MCs are all integral parts to what, by the end, has become something close to a symphony.

10 violins, four cellos, and four violas are in play by the time Kanye starts that iconic last verse. Oh yeah, and Killa Cam comes in with a blistering verse, another testament to Kanye's ability to push those around him to even higher levels.—Graham Corrigan

Album: 808s & Heartbreak

For this fourth album, 808s & Heartbreaks, Kanye completely switched gears and shocked the system. Although “Say You Will” wasn’t a single, it was the first track on the album and acted as the perfect introduction to his new sound. It sets the tone for the project and cleanses your palate of his previous sound so that you can enjoy what’s to come without having the urge to make comparisons.

The mournful last three minutes of the song show exactly what your getting yourself into with 808s. Kanye could have made a simple three-minute song or gone in with more lyrics, but instead he chose let the music speak for itself. The instrumental is undeniably repetitive, but in a hypnotic way. It’s obvious why this could have never been a single for the radio, but it is those elements that are unfit for the radio that make “Say You Will” so charming in the first place.—Adrienne Black

Album: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Everybody always wants to talk about MBDTF, but people rarely talk about “Gorgeous.” My personal guess is because few songs come closer to capturing the "Kanye rant" genre than “Gorgeous.” Kanye is at his peak as a "conscious rapper," alluding to racial stigma and prejudices faced by young African-Americans, sexual exploitation, and media criticism—all at a fever pitch—sandwiched in between Kid Cudi’s melodious omen of a hook.

Quotables abound: he ethers the South Park writers who lampooned him by telling them to eat a buffet of fish-dicks. Then there’s “I treat the cash the way the government treats AIDS / I won’t stop ‘til all my n*ggas get it… get it?” There’s the brutal dismissal: “Oh, you blowin’ up? That’s good, fantastic," which is the perfect subtweet for any and all of your personal naysayers. Raekwon’s verse is just the icing on the cake, reminding all of the up-and-coming rappers that there are examples for younger artists to emulate, recalling the grind on the way up.—Broazay

Album: College Dropout

In the time between the release of Kanye's first album and Kendrick's second, we've spent a lot of time going ham in the club to mindless anthems from soulless rappers. No diss to anyone for that (we all need to spend some time unwinding), but it's always great to hear emcees portraying life's ills in rhyme form over soulful tracks.

While I'm not fully up on Kanye's non-musical work history, I know that I've been stuck in a number of slave ships since I left high school, and "Spaceship" is an epic example of that "fed the fuck up" state-of-mind that many have for their places of employment. While Kanye's opening lines ("If my manager insults me again / I will be assaulting him") might be extreme, anyone who's worked a dead-end job has felt that way. Most people might expect their favorite emcees to be stunting, but 'Ye was winning when he let the blue collar man know that he felt his pain, and was willing to inflict more pain if the manager be on that bullshit.—khal

Album: Yeezus

Just as 808s & Heartbreak divided opinion on its release, but has subsequently proven to be incredibly influential in terms of the sound and evolution of rap, Yeezus will likely prove to be equally important as dark electronic production and rap become ever more intertwined. "I'm In It" was one of the most controversial songs on an opinion splitting album, thanks specifically to those civil rights sign and sweet and sour sauce lines, but to get hung up on those lines and dismiss the whole track is to miss out on one of the most sonically creative and inventive songs in Kanye's discography.

Who else would decide to put Justin Vernon's golden vocals over truly twisted production from Evian Christ and Arca and then fit in a destructive verse from dancehall artist Assassin too? Sure, "I be speaking swaghili," isn't his greatest moment but Kanye stays influencing culture—where do you think Kendrick Lamar, who started working on his own album during the Yeezus tour, got the idea to feature Assassin on "The Blacker The Berry" from?—Constant Gardner

Album: Graduation

Like the other two installments in the College trilogy, Kanye kicks off Graduation with a wake-up call. “Good Morning” sets the stage for all of Graduation’s stadium-size ambitions, complete with motivational quotables, comparisons to Malcolm X, a dreamy Elton John sample, and an interpolation of Jay Z’s opening bars from The Blueprint. “Good Morning” ends up packaging West’s most poignant themes—capital-E Ego, fear of inadequacy, and distrust of the elite—in a sparkling package, just like Takashi Murakami’s video brought Kanye’s Universe City to life.—Broazay

Album: 808s & Heartbreak

“Street Lights” is one of the saddest, coldest songs on 808s & Heartbreak, an album infamous for being chock-full of sad, cold songs. For that, it deserves a spot on any timeline charting the history of the #sadboyz aesthetic, let alone for the contributions it made to the sound now carried forward by artists like Drake and PartyNextDoor.

Kanye goes from self-reflective introspection to repetitive tasks that all seem fleeting and transient and, well, that’s about it, really. It’s Kanye at his emotional nadir—devastated and depressed, but beautifully and artfully delivered.—Broazay

Album: Yeezus

"On Sight" might be the most overlooked song on Yeezus. Remember, this is not not a hip-hop album in any traditional sense of the word; it's more like a punk record—abrasive, aggressive, concerned less with melody than raw power. "On Sight" sets the pace for the album, starting with 30 seconds of distorted analog synths before Kanye comes in with a great big fuck you to pretty much everyone. It's not just the lyrics ("black dick all in your spouse again") that are designed to be confrontational, Kanye even plays with expectations by breaking up this manic track with an interpolation of a beautiful gospel song, "He'll Give Us What We Really Need."

"On Sight" is a brilliant statement of intent record from an artist with an unparallelled vision and ability to bring artists together–dude literally had Daft Punk, straight off the back of making an upbeat disco record, taking it right back to 1997 and the harder sound of their early days.—Constant Gardner

Album: Late Registration

Some kids go out and cop their mom a Hallmark card when Mother’s Day rolls around. As you might’ve guessed, Kanye West is not like most kids. Instead of a card signed with platitudes and a box of discount chocolate, Kanye penned and recorded “Hey Mama,” somehow managing to make us all look like less dope children while also giving us the perfect Mother’s Day link to share on Facebook in the process.

“Hey Mama” is the soulful, sensitive prequel to “Only One” and since Donda West’s passing, the song has taken on a whole new layer of tragic meaning, humbling Kanye’s superhero-like figure.—Broazay

Album: College Dropout

Thinking back on the fact that Kanye’s freshman release kicks off with a Bernie Mac impersonator assassinating his character, “We Don’t Care” is the perfect introduction to Kanye Omari West as a rapper. A man of the people, 'Ye lets the authorities know just how and why inner-city kids flourish outside of school, in spite of school. It did all of this with a mischievous, dark sense of humor (dyslexia and tax dodging jokes, anyone?) that suggested an artist with edge and a knack for subversion (the song was originally titled “Drug Dealer”). More than a decade later, it sounds like Kanye still has the perfect song for the kids to sing.—Broazay

Album: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

When I first heard that Kanye was collaborating with Bon Iver, I was straight insulted. How are you gonna exploit the sweet, falsetto delicacy of Justin Vernon, Kanye? How are you gonna smash your elaborate future rap up against the timelessness of country boy emotions? I thought this experiment was going to be a disaster. And then he showed us all how to bring together two seemingly disparate genres: position their shared interest (Auto-Tune) as a jumping off point, loop just one golden morsel from Bon Iver and leave the original part relatively untouched, and most importantly, don't make it a straight rap song.

Sure, "Lost in the World" is more hip-hop than anything else, but aside from Kanye's one verse, this is something else entirely. It's orchestral dance music, performance art, raw power, a primal scream that only pauses to catch its breath in order to refill its lungs.—Graham Corrigan

Album: Graduation

Hands down, "Everything I Am" is amazing. On a track that finds him opening up, highlighting how the good and the bad of who Kanye West is is what makes him the man we have become enamored with, he also perfectly highlights what makes him so engaging as a rapper.

From the opening, 'Ye has to be the asshole that points out how Common didn't pick up this beat, which is immediately followed up by saying how he turned it into a jam. He drops BLACKstreet references, lets you know that haters stay hating, and still finds time to laces lines about the violence in Chicago over such a laidback beat. For anyone who questions (or criticizes) 'Ye with the pen, tracks like "Everything I Am" are testaments to how his ability to style on you without you realizing it.

For what it's worth, songs like this can also be seen as anthems for the have-nots. You might not have been born into some rich family or in possession of a college degree, but you can still strive based on what you have to do to overcome obstacles and win.—khal

Album: Yeezus

If you were forced to make assumptions about "Blood On The Leaves" based on the production credits, what would you say? Kanye is joined by a passel of electronic dance producers (Lunice, Arca, HudMo), hinting towards a dancefloor cacophony filled with screaming synths—especially given the fact it appears on Yeezus.

Instead, we get Nina Simone and a "Strange Fruit" sample, a song that has become an automatic signifier for racial injustice since Billie Holiday sang the first cut in 1939. So already, three seconds in, all text-based assumptions are shot to shit. But when Kanye gets a hold of it, it isn't just protest song: it's a breakup song. Sacreligious? Surely, for some. Abrasive, cruel and challenging? Absolutely: David Lynch, the king of cinematic darkness, called it "so powerful but at the same time so beautiful."

On all levels, it's an exercise in juxtaposition, contradiction, and betrayal. Like the love Kanye lost. Like the unthinkable horrors Billie Holiday lived with. And like the faint, heavy-hearted piano that gets blasted to smithereens when Kanye sounds the trumpets.—Graham Corrigan

Album: 808s & Heartbreak

Is this the most depressing song on 808s? In an album of heartbreak, loss, and despair, "Welcome to Heartbreak" sees Kanye addressing the pitfalls of materialism and celebrity in incredibly clear, plainspoken terms. Not hiding behind metaphor or putting up a false shield of bravado, West depicts the loneliness and emptiness of not having a family with lines like, "My friend showed me pictures of his kids/And all I could show him was pictures of my cribs," which was based on a real conversation he had with MTV's Dave Sirulnick.

"Welcome to Heartbreak" is also notable as it features Kid Cudi, newly signed to G.O.O.D. Music at the time, in his element on the simple but direct hook. It's a perfect storm of cathartic sadness, and an outstandingly well produced song, with the emptiness in the lyrics matched by the brittle drums and chilly melodies.—Constant Gardner

Album: College Dropout

When Kanye West came out with College Dropout, he changed hip-hop forever. Back then, we didn't know how many more times he'd end up doing that. In 2003, popular rap was dominated by bravado, club-ready bangers, and larger-than-life characters. Just look at the charts—it was "In Da Club," "Right Thurr," "Get Low," and "Stand Up." Along came Kanye in his pink polo, rapping about peeing the bed, missing Grandma, and the value of sharing your feelings.

Over the years, Kanye has given us glimpses into his personal life through songs, but "Family Business" remains one of the most down-to-earth and relatable. The beat was classic Kanye, and the choir brought the home-cooked, soulful quality that set College Dropout apart. It's a heartwarming trip down memory lane, and it never gets tired or outdated. You will never hear "Family Business" in the club, but that's exactly what made it such a stand-out. Now that Kanye's got a family of his own, maybe we'll get a "Family Business Pt. 2."—Confusion

Album: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is inarguably a classic. Both critically acclaimed and successful on a mainstream pop level thanks to hits like "All Of The Lights" and "Power," the album felt like a statement: "I've been through some shit but I'm back to take my crown as the biggest rapper and the biggest pop star." It's a sprawling, grandiose record that is sonically rich and indulgent, and lyrically both highly personal and in your face on issues like race and wealth.

But how do you start an album like this? Well, with a spoken word intro from Nicki Minaj, putting on an English accent, of course. If anyone was expecting 808s & Heartbreak style cool minimalism, "Dark Fantasy" neatly packages up what makes MBDTF so special—stadium size pop ambitions (thanks to Justin Vernon and Teyana Taylor's giant hook) mixed with rock hard hip-hop production (RZA's magic touch is evident here) and brash, quotable verses littered with pop culture references (come on, you must have smiled at that "too many Urkels on your team / that's why your wins low" line the first time).

If you saw Kanye live in the MBDTF era, you'll know, this is one hell of a track to open your live show with, and it was certainly the best way Kanye could have opened such an ambitious album.—Constant Gardner

Album: College Dropout

Goosebumps. Every time. Pharrell knows. Michael Bolton knows. Kanye has a way of inserting playful punchlines, current event references, and lighthearted wordplay into his raps, but he's at his best when he's at his most ambitious, and "Never Let Me Down" is one of the earliest signs that Kanye West was a game-changer, and born to be different. "Never Let Me Down" is straight up spiritual, and Kanye tackles racism, religion, mortality, and love, all with a life-or-death mentality that explains why he's remained so driven.

Kanye's verse on "Never Let Me Down" is one of his most compelling, but the song also features gorgeous production, an inspirational chorus, a spoken word segment that will make you want to be a better human being, and a Jay Z encore that caps it off with an exclamation point. This song is more than music—it's a religious experience, and while it may not have worked as a single, it's still one of the most powerful songs that Kanye West has ever created.—Confusion