Favourite Hip Hop Verse

too many biggie:

Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan
It's that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa
You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White
in tank-light totes, tote iron
Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin
Keep extra clips for extra shit
Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap
The most shady ("Tell 'em!") Frankie baby
Ain't no tellin where I may be
May see me in D.C. at Howard homecomin
with my man Capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin
You should know my steelo
Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
to orgies with hoes I never seen befo'
So, Jesus, get off the Notorious
penis, before I squeeze and bust
If the beef between us, we can settle it
With the chrome and metal shit
I make it hot, like a kettle get
You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?
You still pedal shit, I got more rhymes than "Great Adventure"
Biggie ("How are you gonna do it?")

"Kickin' the Door"

Also Inspectah Deck barnstormer off "Guillotine Swords", ferocious:

Poisonous paragraphs, smash ya phonograph
in half, it be the Inspectah Deck on the warpath
First class leavin mics with a cast
Causin ruckus like the aftermath when guns blast
Run fast, here comes the verbal assaulta
Rhymes runnin wild like a child in a walker
I scored from the inner slums abroad
And my thoughts are razor sharp I sliced the mic from the cord
First they criticize, but now they have become
mentally paralyzed with hits that I devise
Now I testify, the rest is I, Rebel INS
Ya highness, blessed to electrify
with voltage of an eel, truth that I reveal'll
crush the amateurs who screamed to keep it real
Caesar black down hoodied up and fatigues
Part time minor leagues receive third degrees
Attack like a wolf pack, once I pull back
the God-U, and bust through like a fullback