The 100 greatest Hip-Hop songs of the 2000's: 31-40

31: "Don't Say Nuthin'" - The Roots

Making a more commercial sounding album isn't necessarily a cop-out, especially if it gets you working with Scott Storch. No one delivers inner-city anxiety like Black Thought, and here his murmurs and threats seem sinister, but the beat calms us back down, reminding us that for the moment its only a song, not the truth.

32: "Ridin'" - Chamillionaire feat. Krayzie Bone

A hit song has always had the ability to become larger than life, but in the 2000's there were so many more venues and outlets. Because of this song Chamillionaire was recognized by the RIAA as the first multi-platinum ringtone artist ever. Sometimes these things just happen; release a catchy hip-hop classic right when ringtones are at their zenith and reap success. Listening to "Ridin'", its pretty clear luck had little to do with it.

33: "Work It" - Missy Elliot

Missy's 2002 album Under Construction set the stage for the rest of the decade in many ways. Timbaland's beats had always sounded great paired with Ms. Elliot's raps, but the new pseudo-dancefloor grooves were prime for the big time. Timbaland's cache would only increase over the next years, his success tied to this song and his longest collaborator.

34: "Lose Yourself" - Eminem

If I had to categorize Marshall Mathers's musical output during the last decade, the word I would use is "disappointing". After exploding into American consciousness with 1999's The Slim Shady LP and The Marshall Mathers LP released a year later, Em retreated more and more from the limelight as his work's quality decreased. By the time he released Encore in 2004 he was panned and ignored, after many music magazine's declared him the next Elvis. His shining moment of the 2000's was certainly this song, a companion to his auto-biographical film but more an ode to his humble beginnings and love of Hip-Hop. There have been some recent indications that perhaps Eminem has more to offer us. This song is a reminder that once he offered us greatness.

35: "Welcome to Jamrock" - Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley

Dancehall was another style that was supposed to take over America last decade, yet apart from some infectious Sean Paul we didn't really get too close. Jamaican elements definitely found their way into our pop, just listen to Rihanna's "Pon De Replay". "Welcome to Jamrock" is not really dancehall, though, and bears little similarity to relentless danceability of Beenie Man. Rather, Damian Marley is doing American Hip-Hop filtered through the Jamaican soundsystem, and the result is intoxicating. It's slow, syrupy, easy-going and evil all at the same time. Art is all about contradictions.

36: "Blinded By The Lights" - The Streets

Personal emotion statements are infrequent in modern Hip-Hop, hidden behind a near-impenetrable wall of machismo. Mike Skinner's 2005 album under The Streets name was full of them. Told as a first person narative from track to track, Skinner loses money, gets a girl, loses said girl, and finds said money. We see the MC through the whole album with no facade or persona, Mike Skinner as Mike Skinner. The highlight, both musically and emotionally, is this song, a horrid night of drugs and revelation set to pounding nightclub synths. Its incredibly haunting and touching, and it's sense of helplessness stays with you.

37: "Kick, Push" - Lupe Fiasco

"The Rapper" has become a trope, a stereotype to conform to. Those that do can achieve a lot, simply by association with the culture. When an MC comes along that makes a point of avoiding the type we listen a little keener. When unknown talent Lupe Fiasco made a song about a skateboard instead of a Maybach, he made it clear his voice would be easily deciferable from the herd. The song refuses to be complacent, reveling in its uniqueness.

38: "Ante Up" - M.O.P.

Hardcore New York Hip-Hop was the 90's forte; artists like Wu-Tang and Busta Rhymes made in-your-face rap music that didn't make any concessions for the dancefloor. We can't say the same for the 2000's, but at least we have "Ante Up". Sneaking out in 2000, this song is so hard it might loosen your bowels. The fervor with which the Mash Out Posse scream out their rhymes is infectious; you literally want to hit the streets and jack some jewelery. Get up off your goddamn diamonds.

39: "Testify" - Common

Common wasn't really poised to make a big impact in the last decade. He was a remnant from the Soulquarians, a neo-soul based collective that included Erykah Badu and Talib Kweli. They were the self-conscious rappers that were supposed to change the game, but they were done by 2001. Luckily for Common, a young fellow Chicagoan by the name of Kanye West was willing to resurrect his career, and 2005's Be did just that. Built entirely from West's beats, the album was just what Common needed, and this song of deceit and betrayal is its best track.

40: "Cherchez LaGhost" - Ghostface Killah feat. U-God

As any douchey college professor will tell you, great art is all about contrast. Contrast like taking a nerdy disco hit and pairing it with Ghostface's free association raps. Contrast like soft singing and U-God's condom-breaking dick. Imbue something sweet with something sinister.

The 100 greatest Hip-Hop songs of the 2000's: 51-60

51: "Rubber Band Man" - T.I.

I have an old issue of The Source from 2003 on my desk that has an article entitled "The New South", sort of a profile in up-and-coming Southern MC's. The three they choose to feature most heavily were Lil Jon, David Banner, and Bone Crusher. You have to turn a few pages to see, buried in with photos of Killer Mike and Field Mob, a lone picture of a young man named T.I. staring apathetically at the camera. There was a lot of talent emerging from Atlanta during the early days of Crunk, and its a testament to T.I.'s talent that he was able to make himself into a Hip-Hop superstar. This song helped, with the aforementioned Mr. Banner producing (his strongest suit) and a fiery T.I. making the drug game sound cheery.

52: "Music" - Erick Sermon feat. Marvin Gaye

Sure, its a tribute, but to whom? Is it for Marvin, an ode to him, a call for remembrance? Doubtful. As producer and founding member of EPMD, Sermon seems to be making tribute to music in general. When we've become so mired in Hip-Hop culture as we did in this past decade, its easy to forget what it is we're doing here: making music. Having Marvin sugarcoat it for us makes it that much sweeter.

53: "Awnaw" - Nappy Roots feat. Jazze Pha

Southern Hip-Hop seems to have spawned from a West-Coast influence, owing much of its success to the gangsterism of N.W.A. or the hyphy sounds of Oakland. That's why it's so nice to hear a song that actually sounds "Southern", although artists that attempt this are often reduced to one hit wonders. Nappy Roots were no exception, but what a hit. They deliver a down-home ode to good living that is incredibly authentic and endearingly earnest.

54: "Empire State of Mind" - Jay-Z feat. Alicia Keys

This is Jay-Z's first number one hit. Let me repeat that: this is Jay-Z's FIRST NUMBER ONE HIT. That's pretty amazing for arguably the biggest rap star of the past 15 years, but radio was never very friendly towards the Jigga Man. He's kind of an enigma; critics love him, he's had more number one albums than the Beatles, but few find him really captivating or electrifying like his younger contemporaries. Yet this song is redemptive, for all those times Jay didn't wow us right out the gate or talked about himself just a bit to much in his songs. Here we see Jay as we should; a product of New York and it's music.

55: "Modern Man's Hustle" - Atmosphere

In 1999, if asked to name a trend for the coming decade, I probably would have said white rappers. Eminem's popularity was gargantuan, and his legion of new white rap fans set the stage for the 21st century Hip-Hop domination we see now. Yet the white rappers never came; there hasn't been anyone close to making it in the mainstream like Em, and those in underground rap scenes have made little impact outside of them. Those that have seen success, like Atmosphere and its MC Slug, have had to create their own niches that don't rely on their whiteness. So we get Atmosphere's unique brand of emotional, angst-ridden rap that deals mostly with girls, sex, and relationships. We may never get another Eminem, but I'm not sure anybody's asking for one.

56: "Tell Me When To Go" - E-40 feat. Keak Da Sneak

Mention the word "Hyphy" to anyone from the Bay Area and a grin will form on their face. Ask them to explain it and they'll probably say "You wouldn't understand." Oakland's music has long been inside information to NorCal residents, people who've been appreciating E-40 and Keak for over 10 years. This was the rest of the world's only opportunity to get on board, with a thumping Lil Jon beat that is purposefully non-Crunk and verses from Hyphy veterans looking for a bigger audience, though I think they're quite content with the one they have.

57: "In The Music" - The Roots

When The Roots released Phrenology in 2002, critics raved over it, citing its neo-soul psychedelia and new age stylings. For me, especially after loving the dark muted jazz that was Things Fall Apart, the album never lived up to the hype. That's why 2006's Game Theory was such pleasant shock. It abandoned the long jam session feel of their previous two albums and instead painted a bleak landscape of America; mired in the Bush years and fearful of the inner city. The whole album is amazing, and "In The Music" is its most paranoid and anxious track.

58: "Sippin' On Some Syrup" - Three 6 Mafia feat. UGK

How this happened is anybody's guess. Two southern crews that made their debuts in the 90's go on to be some of the biggest taste-makers of the 2000's. When this song dropped in 2000 it got some attention, but was really too ahead of its time for the Nelly-fueled Hip-Hop landscape. Ten years later the elements that sounded foreign then are now commonplace; slow metronomes of electronic beats, mush-mouthed southern odes to cough syrup, and a vicious (and viscous) regional intensity.

59: "The Whole World" - OutKast feat. Killer Mike

Ah, OutKast. In the first few years of the decade it seemed as if they were poised for domination; 2000's Stankonia produced their biggest hits of their career while the music press were ready to anoint them the title of biggest band in the universe. However, somewhere between the sprawling solo albums and the failure that was Idlewild, OutKast became a dinosaur, a relic of Hip-Hop's past. Andre 3000 seems completely disinterested in music, and Big Boi's solo album has been in record label limbo for years. This moment was sweet though, when OutKast made this new track for their greatest hits album and in the process created an eerie horn-driven vaudevillian cheer where Killer Mike's howl is pushed to the forefront. The last blast of raw creativity from a united OutKast.

60: "Why?" - Jadakiss feat. Anthony Hamilton

As years go by we see less and less political and social commentary in Hip-Hop. The feelings that were so important to Golden Era rappers like KRS-One have been replaced by "realness" and gangsterism. That's why Jadakiss's song caught our attention in 2004; it was a Bush-era protest that reminded us of the revolution songs of the 70's,with Anthony Hamilton adding the soul much needed to get the message across.