1) rapper from Mobb Deep
2) group fronted by Todd Duane and Lale Larsen
3) 90s teenage rapper
4) 70s powerpop from Minnesota
5) US progressive/power metal
6) lounge jazz, alias of Miki Litvak
7) 90s US metal
8) US rapper in The Dominion
1) Albert Johnson (born November 2, 1974 in Bradford, Brooklyn, New York and died on June 20, 2017 in Las Vegas), better known by his stage name Prodigy, was a member of the hip hop duo Mobb Deep. Prodigy worked as a solo artist since the early 2000s. He was born to parents of Ethiopian and Jamaican descent. Prodigy was born with sickle cell anemia and suffered from the disease throughout his life. Propelled to awareness partially by fellow Queens, New York rapper Nas, who took a similar approach lyrically on his championed "Illmatic" album from 1994, as well as with the aid of a successful single, "Shook Ones Pt. 2," Mobb Deep suddenly found themselves developing a quickly growing cult. A year later, in 1996, Prodigy and Havoc released "Hell on Earth"; debuting at number six on SoundScan, the album found them fully realizing their approach, dropping both evocative beats and cinematic rhymes that communicated the dark side of New York's urban landscape. Thanks to a grim video for "Hell on Earth (Front Lines)" and theatrical Scarface-like photos inside the CD booklet picturing the duo with guns and a mound of cocaine, Mobb Deep had created an elaborate image for themselves that took hardcore gangsta rap to a new level for East Coast hip hop. Their next release, "Murda Muzik", was heavily bootlegged while still in its demo stage, leaking rough versions of the nearly 30 songs the duo had recorded onto the streets and over the internet.
Months after the bootlegs leaked and after several pushed-back street dates, "Murda Muzik" was formally released, debuting at number three on the Billboard charts and quickly going platinum on the strength of "Quiet Storm," a song that epitomized the Mobb Deep style. The album was welcomed by critics, who again lauded the group's lucid cinematics, driven primarily by Havoc's production. In late 2000, Prodigy finally released his long-rumoured solo album, "H.N.I.C.", which saw the more lyrically gifted member of the group collaborating with outside producers such as The Alchemist and Rockwilder on tracks that didn't depart far from the trademark sullen Mobb Deep style. Their follow-up, "Infamy", was the duo’s last album for Loud, distributed by Columbia Records and was, for some, a disappointment lyrically and musically, while others praised it as amongst the best rap albums of the year. Loud was absorbed by its new distributor shortly afterwards.
Mobb Deep then signed with Jive, under a unique deal that gave the duo its own imprint, Infamous Records, and released "Amerika'z Nightmare", a very uneven effort, which featured production by The Alchemist and Lil' Jon. However, despite a successful single that featured a Thomas Dolby sample. The duo was not happy with Jive, and were let go at its request. The duo took a hiatus afterwards and came back in 2006, signing to 50 Cent’s Interscope/Universal-distributed G-Unit imprint. Their well-hyped "Blood Money" was a failure from the money side when compared to fellow label mates like 50 Cent, Young Buck and Lloyd Banks. Some accused the duo of selling out, with their beats and rhymes not up-to-par with previous efforts on Loud.
He completed work on his third solo album "H.N.I.C. Part 2", which was previewed on his official mixtape "The Return of the Mac" on the independent label Koch Records. The mixtape single and mixtape video are called "Mac 10 Handle," and it shows Prodigy once again reverting to his trademark braids that he had prior to the release of Mobb Deep's 2004 "Amerika'z Nightmare" album; different from the short fade he had from 2004 to 2006. "H.N.I.C. Pt. 2 was released through Voxonic Inc., of which Prodigy is an equity holder.
www.hnic2.com/
Power Rap
Prodigy Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Like a brick stack, the kid is back
I told y'all niggas ninety-eight lives that
Yo, ninety-nine I piss on rap
Two thousand where your pistols at?
Thunn, we be the men in black fatigue
Thirty-thousand dollar chains that swing
Yo catch me in the street
Catch a fat lift, holes all over your shit
Bust guns like, nuts all over your bitch
Yo you's a woman
Tell me what the fuck you tryin' to do when
You're growlin' all over the tape
You get chewed when i touch that shit
Not only that on the concrete
We splash more niggas than the wavepool did
Check out my new shit, we blood spill
You still ice grill
Mad cause your clique's shit is homo
The Mobb stay real
You steady playin' the field
Nigga you sideline rhyme
Customers complain they can't feel
You cooked up a half-ass meal
It's time for me to catch burn
On the wheels of steel
My shit fills, the appetite of the populace
We could do it via satellites just us
And show the world how that ass get bust
Ever since a little yuke, I had this lust
To pick up the motherfuckin'
Pen and just rush like morphine beats
Through the wires of the EPS plus
You get penalized
For tryin' to rock with the upmost
Get branded, for bein weak the most
Now be ghost the fuck outta here
With that bullshit you tryin' to share
With the planet, you need to be shot rappin'
I got sickle cell I feel the pain all year
What's happenin'
Fake thugs wanna front like they contractin'
Numbers on my head, thun please
I'm here waitin' you can't touch me
There's no fake love amongst me
There's no fake niggas that's run with me
Somebody gave y'all the wrong info
I ain't get kicko-ed
You nympho, put me on to where you breathe at
You 'sposed to taught that bitch
Much better than that
I dwell, where the rest of my vets is at
From Sumnerville to BX and back
To the lab in the dungeons
My house of reresentatives stay starvin'
Beats thumpin' we unholy
'cause there ain't a part missin'
My commission, sit at the table
Like the last supper, fucker
The lyrics to Prodigy's song "Power Rap" depict his confidence and prowess as a rapper, with a strong emphasis on his skills and dominance in the rap game. He starts by comparing the multitude of raps in his mind to a stack of bricks inside his skull cap, signifying the weight and power of his lyrics. Prodigy declares his return, asserting that he has proven himself with "ninety-eight lives" and will continue to reign with "ninety-nine," disrespecting other rappers in the process.
He brags about his presence on the streets, engaging in confrontations and leaving a mark on anyone who messes with him. Prodigy uses explicit and aggressive language to convey his assertiveness, highlighting his ability to cause harm with both his words and actions. He dismisses other rappers who try to challenge him, noting that their music lacks authenticity and substance compared to his and his crew, Mobb Deep.
The lyrics also touch upon Prodigy's dedication to his craft. He describes his passion for writing rhymes, likening it to a constant rush of adrenaline or a drug-like experience. Prodigy compares himself to a patient with sickle cell anemia, explaining that he feels the pain associated with his artistry year-round. He ends the verse by asserting that he cannot be touched by fake love or fake individuals, emphasizing the loyalty and authenticity of those in his inner circle.
Line by Line Meaning
Pile raps inside my skull cap
I have so many raps in my mind
Like a brick stack, the kid is back
I'm back and stronger than ever
I told y'all niggas ninety-eight lives that
I've been through a lot and survived
Yo, ninety-nine I piss on rap
I'm even better now, dominating rap
Two thousand where your pistols at?
In the year 2000, where are the tough guys?
Thunn, we be the men in black fatigue
We are the intimidating figures in black attire
Thirty-thousand dollar chains that swing
We wear expensive jewelry that stands out
Yo catch me in the street
You can find me in the streets
Poppin' that bullshit
Engaging in meaningless conflicts
Catch a fat lift, holes all over your shit
You'll get beaten up badly, leaving you injured
Bust guns like, nuts all over your bitch
We shoot firearms aggressively, dominating the scene
Yo you's a woman
You're weak and inferior
Tell me what the fuck you tryin' to do when
What are you even attempting?
You're growlin' all over the tape
You're making noise without substance
You get chewed when i touch that shit
You'll face consequences when I encounter you
Not only that on the concrete
Even on the streets
We splash more niggas than the wavepool did
We defeat more opponents than a wavepool could contain
Check out my new shit, we blood spill
Listen to my latest work, full of violence
You still ice grill
You're still trying to intimidate, but it's not effective
Mad cause your clique's shit is homo
You're angry because your group's music is weak
The Mobb stay real
My crew remains authentic
You steady playin' the field
You're indecisive and lack commitment
Nigga you sideline rhyme
You're not a significant player in the rap game
Customers complain they can't feel
Fans are dissatisfied with your music
You cooked up a half-ass meal
Your creation is mediocre
It's time for me to catch burn
It's my time to shine
On the wheels of steel
On the turntables
My shit fills, the appetite of the populace
My music satisfies the masses
We could do it via satellites just us
We can connect worldwide using technology
And show the world how that ass get bust
I'll demonstrate how I defeat my opponents
Ever since a little yuke, I had this lust
Since I was young, I had a strong desire
To pick up the motherfuckin' Pen and just rush like morphine beats
To write and rap passionately, like an addictive beat
Through the wires of the EPS plus
Using the EPS (electronic music production) tools
You get penalized
You'll face consequences
For tryin' to rock with the upmost
For attempting to compete at the highest level
Get branded, for bein weak the most
You'll be marked as the weakest
Now be ghost the fuck outta here
Now disappear and leave
With that bullshit you tryin' to share
Stop spreading your nonsense
With the planet, you need to be shot rappin'
Your existence harms the rap industry
I got sickle cell I feel the pain all year
I have sickle cell disease, enduring pain constantly
What's happenin'
What's going on?
Fake thugs wanna front like they contractin'
Fake tough guys pretend to be aggressive
Numbers on my head, thun please
People are targeting me, but they can't harm me
I'm here waitin' you can't touch me
I'm waiting for my enemies, confident they can't harm me
There's no fake love amongst me
There's no false affection within my circle
There's no fake niggas that's run with me
There are no disloyal individuals in my crew
Somebody gave y'all the wrong info
Someone misled you with false information
I ain't get kicko-ed
I haven't been deceived or fooled
You nympho, put me on to where you breathe at
You sexually obsessed person, reveal your living location to me
You 'sposed to taught that bitch
You were supposed to educate that woman
Much better than that
In a much superior way
I dwell, where the rest of my vets is at
I reside where the other experienced artists are
From Sumnerville to BX and back
From Sumnerville to the Bronx and back again
To the lab in the dungeons
To the recording studio in the underground
My house of representatives stay starvin'
My crew is hungry for success
Beats thumpin' we unholy
Our music is intense and rebellious
'cause there ain't a part missin'
Because it's complete and perfect
My commission, sit at the table
My team is ready and prepared
Like the last supper, fucker
Just like the iconic last supper, you worthless person
Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind