

The standout from the interstitial demo collection Untitled Unmastered, Untitled 2 is of a piece with, and of the same standard as, To Pimp a Butterfly – free-blowing sax, a vocal that shifts from a prematurely aged quiver to something more strident, a lyric that dissects hip-hop’s obsession with materialism without exempting himself from criticism. The Blacker the Berry is the breathtaking moment when they explode, the album’s P-funk-y sound warping into something darker, the lyrics seething – “You hate me don’t you? You hate my people” – its rage directed inward and outward, the final verse offering a jaw-dropping twist. The Blacker the Berry (2015)Ī lot of To Pimp a Butterfly deals with pent-up emotions. It is dense and complicated material, done with seeming effortlessness. Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst (2012)Īnother Good Kid, MAAD City song in two parts – rapped from different perspectives, with different producers handling each section – it variously examines the responsibilities involved in using real people as material for songs, contemplates the worth of legacies and depicts the aftermath of a murder. Watch the video for Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst.

Case in point: MAAD City’s intricate, perfectly handled six-minute story of his youth in Compton, which turns into a completely different track midway through and powers towards a nightmarish climax. Without wishing to gush, Lamar is so good at what he does that anything in this Top 10 could reasonably be at No 1. Empathic rather than preachy, the verse where he recounts a conversation with a girl who has taken too much of everything is brilliantly, richly painted, with the spongy-sounding beat – a sample of Odd Future offshoot The Jet Age of Tomorrow – the perfect complement. ADHD (2011)Ī relation of Swimming Pools (Drank), this time homing in on drugs.

The chorus sounds like a nihilistic party anthem – “why you babysitting only two or three shots?” – his urgent rap involves peer pressure, puking and getting beaten up, a cameo from his conscience and an examination of the roots of alcoholism. Swimming Pools (Drank) (2012)Ī perfect example of Lamar’s ability to turn a hackneyed style on its head. It is a complex, insightful and utterly gripping story, revolving around “one decision that changed both of their lives”. Lamar in storytelling mode, albeit a story based on real events: his father’s 80s encounter with Anthony “Top Dawg” Tiffith, then a gangster, but ultimately the boss of Lamar’s record label. Call me out on your track if you disagree, he suggests, but be warned: I will destroy you lyrically and, worse, “make it look sexy”. Hence Element, a post-fame restatement of the claims made on Rigamortis. It is obligatory for rappers to announce that they are the best, but the difference with Lamar is that he does it in a way that suggests he might well have a point. “What you gonna do?” he asks after detailing a litany of life’s horrors. i (2014)Īpparently Lamar’s favourite track from To Pimp a Butterfly, on which he gradually pulls himself out of depression into a state close to euphoria, buoyed up by a backing based on the Isley Brothers’ reliably joy-bringing That Lady. Rapping in a double-time flow over a twitchy, sped-up jazz sample, he offers a stream of boasts about his ability that are so relentless and inventive, even Nas – one of the artists over whom Rigamortis appears to claim Lamar’s supremacy – called him “the future”. Rigamortis (2011)įrom Lamar’s debut album, a swaggering early example of his skills. The directness of the latter’s verse is a perfect complement to the unpick-this density of Lamar’s lyrics. Cartoon and Cereal (2013)ĭropped from Good Kid, MAAD City and subsequently released as a single, the dark, Wu-Tang-goes-trap beat of Cartoon and Cereal improbably paired Lamar with the Rick-Ross-affiliated, swastika-tattooed rapper Gunplay.
