Gangsta Rap

Welcome to the gritty, blood-soaked subgenre of gangsta rap, an invite-only realm where the beats drop like customized Impalas and singles pop like semi-automatics. Realer than reality TV and nastier than the nightly news, the scene was rooted in the confrontational, deadly serious cuts of Ice-T ("Colors," "Girls L.G.B.N.A.F"); the gripping G-funk of Dr. Dre ("Nuthin' but a 'G' Thang"); and the F.B.I.-rattling output of gangsta rap supergroup N.W.A ("Straight Outta Compton"). Discover how the original gangstas rolled before the mainstream embraced them, in Next Steps.

They may star in movies and shill soft drinks and cell phone plans now, but Snoop Dogg, 50 Cent and Ice Cube will always broadcast songs from the street. Fiddy's G-Unit crew coasts over a Scarface-suitable piano melody on "Poppin' Them Thangs," Ice Cube trades smart-bomb rhymes with Dr. Dre over the four-alarm fire of "Natural Born Killaz," and Snoop Dogg plays it soft and sneaky among the I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter hooks of Nate Dogg on "Lay Low." Good to be a gangsta? Hell yes, according to Geto Boys, in Deep Cuts.

Laying low like an undercover cop and about to blow like a freshly lit powder keg, the MC's in our Deep Cuts section are hungrier than a castaway and not afraid to sling rhymes like a starting pitcher. Kurupt joined the game alongside Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, and quickly found his way with cuts like "Pop Pop Bang!" Scarface, meanwhile, is as bloodthirsty and bold as his mobster predecessor, and alongside the rest of the Office Space-approved Geto Boys, he's a glaring reminder of why "it feels good to be a gangsta."

Mute the bumpin' beats and breaks of gangsta rap, and you could easily mistake the rhymes for the director's-cut script of a Scorsese film. This is music from the underground up: a sonic documentary embellished by showmanship and machismo, certified genuine by spilt blood and spent bullets. From Swollen Members to Spice 1, G-Unit to the Death Row records family of Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg and 2Pac, every track plays like footage from a hidden camera on the streets of Compton, New York or — courtesy of Jelleestone ("The Hood Is Here") — Toronto. Don't look away; turn the pages of hip-hop's Great American Crime Novel, as sirens scream, synths slice, and hooks hit you from more angles than a prize fighter.