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Prodigy left no doubt in any hip hop listeners mind that he reigned supreme in NY gritty street rap.

Prodigy of Mobb Deep was the New York native that brought crime slang labeled the “Dunn launguage” out of the Queensbridge projects. His play on lyricism delivered a vivid picture of gangster streetlife of 90’s NYC.

After Prodigy’s unfortunate abrupt passing, many a hip hop fan have revisited the infamous Mobb Deep recordings to relive the classics yet again. We here at the USC have as well strolled threw memory lane to present some of the most impactful lyrics of Prodigy’s career.

1. Mobb Deep – Survival Of The Fittest

Album: The Infamous (1995)
Producer: Havoc
Verse: 1

There’s a war goin’ on outside no man is safe from,
You could run, but you can’t hide forever From these streets that we done took, 
You walkin’ with your head down, scared to look You shook,
Cause ain’t no such things as halfway crooks

2. Mobb Deep – Shook Ones

Album: The Infamous (1995)
Producer: Havoc
Verse: 1

I got you stuck off the realness,
We be the infamous You heard of us, official Queensbridge murderers
The Mobb comes equipped for warfare, beware
Of my crime family who got ‘nough shots to share
For all of those who wanna profile and pose
Rock you in your face, stab your brain with your nose bone
You all alone in these streets, cousin
Every man for they self in this land we be gunnin’
And keep them shook crews runnin’, like they supposed to
They come around, but they never come close to
I can see it inside your face, you’re in the wrong place
Cowards like you just get they whole body laced up
With bullet holes and such

3. Mobb Deep – Animal Instinct

Album: Hell On Earth (1996)
Producer: Havoc
Verse: 2

To all my Mobb crimey, money-hungry and grimy,
Mobb sheisty, Godfather III and Gotti,
Rapper Noyd, Ty Maxx and Ty Nitty,
Scarface and Gambino, New York City,
It’s P live and direct, stab ya neck,
Ice-pick bloodied up ya whole entire shit,
Live shit 1-9-9-6, ask your bitch,
My crew run wild, snatch chains and bracelets,
Your time’s wasted for figuring P,
There’s two sides of me,

4. Mobb Deep – Blood Sport

Album: Hell On Earth (1996)
Producer: Havoc
Verse: 2

Yo, this ain’t rap, it’s bloodsport,
Your life cut short, you fell short,
The pressure’s on high, full court,
My team form killer instincts and fire arms,
Dangerous thug minds and brainstorm wars,
A life of a wild rebel, who run wild,
Click (Blaow-blaow) Nigga lay down, queer stay down,
P a disappear in hydro cloud,

5. Mobb Deep – Extortion

Album: Hell On Earth (1996)
Producer: Havoc
Verse: 2

I hold a nine Ruger, with an infa-spot disc,
Red dot right at your face, so set sail or rock it,
And kept drivin, pull off like the Indy 5 G,
In a four time Ford truck with Speed,
Like the motion picture, this nigga Gone With the Wind,
My crime work, ninja style shit was did,
And got away with, escaped it, the Jakes from tracing,
Anything that lead to the source, you know the boss,
Of the Mobb killing, is like an Unsolved Mystery,
Puzzling, nobody knows, it’s all history,

5. Mobb Deep – G.O.D. Pt. III

Album: Hell On Earth (1996)
Producer: Havoc
Verse: 1

Awright now, pay attention to the crime rhyme Houdini P, 
Keepin you niggaz in perspective,
Mobb, representative, call me the specialist Professional, professor at this rap science, 
Up in the labratory, here’s why your small rhyme bore me, 
Store bought rap ain’t shit, my category, 
Is that of an insane who strike back, 
I draw first blood, it’s over with, and that’s that, 
You wanna square off, forsake and slice that cat, 
You get splashed, from back of your head, to ass crack, 
Surgical signs to the end, with iron map, 
Which bring, apocalypse to this game called rap, 
Not a game but quite serious and yo in fact, 
You’ll be runnin for dear life so far you might fall off the map, 
Fuckin with P, you need a gat

6. Mobb Deep – Quiet Storm

Album: Murda Muzik (1999)
Producer: Havoc
Verse: 1

I put my lifetime in between the paper’s lines,
I’m the quiet storm nigga who fight rhyme,
P, yeah, you heard of him, but I ain’t concerned with them,
Nigga, I pop more guns than you holdin’ them,
Make my route while the sun’s out and scold your men,
Unload ten in broad daylight, get right,
Fuck your life! Hop on my ’98 dirt bike,
You try to stop mines from growin,’
I’ll make your blood stop flowin’