Hip Hop Top 50 Vol. 1. Playlist

A sampling of tracks from the first 18 Hip Hop Top 50 entries. All apologies to Company Flow, since "Funcrusher Plus" is not currently available on the supposedly encyclopedic Spotify. A shoutout on the first Black Star track will have to do for the time being.

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48. Mobb Deep - The Infamous

Mobb Deep makes urgent, desperate music. Rarely do they relish the spoils of a life of crime, focusing more on the need to make money at any cost and the danger of getting caught doing it. Their world is a paranoid one, full of snitches copping pleas, police on the prowl and competition lurking in every alley.

They may paint a bleak picture, but Havoc and Prodigy are exceptional storytellers, layering each track with real characters, believable stories and even traces of self-doubt. One of their finest moments is "Up North Trip," an often sad depiction of how jail time affects the inmate and the family they left behind. It's these details that separate Mobb Deep from the bevy of faceless mid-90s "gangsta" rappers.

Their sound even strays from the status quo. Havoc handles the production brilliantly, maintaining a sonic continuity birthed from classic New York jazz and merged with menacing piano loops and a feverish sense of dread. It's to his credit that he crafted a focused piece with so many collaborators (i.e. Q-Tip's guest production, Nas, Ghostface and Raekwon verses), but with a crushing drum track in the forefront on nearly every song, most contributors are forced to coalesce with the beat.

The end result is an authentic slice of Queens crime "fiction." The Infamous is free of cheesy party tracks, pop hooks or moralistic backpedaling. It's completely honest about its intentions and depicts street crime at its most dehumanizing.

50. Jay-Z - The Blueprint

Versatility is the name of the game.

Jay-Z sounds like a seasoned vet, young battle rapper, wealthy playboy, career criminal, misunderstood genius and grateful success story over the course of 13 tracks. He's striving to show every facet of his personality, but The Blueprint never comes off as a plea for mainstream acceptance or approval. Jay knows he's the best, he's just detailing his ascent to the throne.

As with any hostile takeover, there are casualties. Critics get called out for scapegoating, absentee parents get blamed for loss of innocence, Nas and Mobb Deep get their feelings hurt. Jay even takes shots at himself on "Song Cry," eulogizing how the money got in the way of a close friendship.

Thankfully, that moment of self-deprecation is brief, leaving 12 tracks open for playful narcissism and effortless wordplay. Jay's megalomania never sounded better, thanks primarily to Kanye West and Just Blaze, who successfully shifted Jay's sound from electronic club jam to Jackson 5 and Bobby Byrd-sampled soul.

This regal mixture of suave vocal delivery and vintage urban soundscape make quite a convincing argument for Jay-Z's 21st Century dominance. What makes the album so addictively listenable is that you're rooting along with the champ as he wins the title belt.