Rap songs with a featured artist who stole the show.

Blurring the line between collaboration and competition.

artwork by Sally North.


What’s the point of a feature? In most genres, artists work with one another to find ways to elevate their music. Think about your favorite smooth R&B duet or explosive pop collab: you probably adore the harmonies they reach; perhaps there’s a contrast between their voices that works super well together; maybe there’s a playful back-and-forth that neither act could quite replicate on their own.

Things are a bit different in rap culture, which champions individual demonstrations of skill. For example, artists in virtually every other genre openly employ songwriters, but rappers often get raked over the coals for doing so. You gotta come up with your own material, and the culture lauds those who consistently meet that mark. What’s more, the popularity of battle rap underscores the idea of out-performing another act one-on-one, crowning a clear winner. Rapping at the highest level is an individual sport, and this competitive essence of the game is why features in hip hop just feel different from those in other genres. When another rapper puts you out to pasture on your own song, that’s not a great look. Even if they improve your record, fans will remember someone else as its highlight, and you don’t want to be known as the one who got out-rapped. That said, inclusion on this list doesn’t necessarily mean the lead artist does poorly; it’s simply a celebration of some of the best feature verses the genre has to offer. 

If you’d like to hear these yourself, there’s a playlist at the end of the article with all the songs listed, plus a host of honorable mentions.

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AZ on “Life’s a Bitch” by Nas

Nas’ Illmatic is rightfully in the conversation for the greatest rap album of all time, but it’s AZ that cements “Life’s a Bitch” as one of the record’s standout tracks. The upstart Brooklyn rapper delivers thunderous bars, reflecting on his drive to live life to the fullest in honor of the victims of all-too-common outcomes in the inner city. He puts that urgent purpose better than anyone else ever will: “Life’s a bitch and then you die, that’s why we get high/Cause you never know when you’re gonna go.” That brutally honest chorus came first, but once AZ laid that down, everyone in the studio wanted him to add a verse. The result? One of the best 16s of all time.

Best Bars: “Visualizin' the realism of life in actuality/Fuck who's the baddest, a person's status depends on salary/And my mentality is money-orientated/I'm destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it”

Eminem on “Renegade” by JAY-Z

What’s the legacy of this legendary collaboration on The Blueprint? Ask Nas on his JAY-Z diss “Ether” and he’d say “Eminem murdered [him] on [his] own shit.” Ask Snoop Dogg, who wanted no part of Eminem in the wake of “Renegade.” Hell, ask Hov himself on Rap Radar: “I’m a very frequent collaborator…some people are gonna have better days…But if we count the amount of records that I’ve [had the better performance on] versus people who had better performances [than me] then it’s gonna be 400 to 3.” 

What makes “Renegade” one of those three? Well, both MCs take aim at their critics but from very different angles. JAY-Z asks the media to recognize music as more than just something to rate: “Do you fools listen to music or do you just skim through it?” Em on the other hand skewers them for clutching their pearls to his oft-controversial content: “Maybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit/Maybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish.” These artists are both renegades, a label they each embrace throughout the nearly six-minute runtime. Even if the overall song is not the absolute crime scene that most people make it out to be, Em certainly outduels Jay with their respective second verses. JAY-Z’s follow-up doesn’t add much while Shady’s blistering flow zeroes in on a religion-focused scheme that’s sure to impress. Every dog has its day, and Eminem certainly capitalized on “Renegade.”

Best Bars: “​​See, I'm a poet to some, a regular modern-day Shakespeare/Jesus Christ, the king of these Latter-day Saints here”; “Take a bath with the Catholics/In holy water, no wonder they tried to hold me under longer”

Kendrick Lamar on “Nosetalgia” by Pusha T

To no one’s surprise, Pusha T paints us a picture of him moving weight, describing his time in the game as “twenty-plus years of selling Johnson & Johnson/I started out as a baby-faced monster/No wonder it's diaper rash on my conscience.” I adore how he calls himself the Black Ferris Bueller and a doctor in the hood, given how he gives out medication on his days off.  Push delivers what you’d expect from him—if you love coke metaphors he's your guy—but the Kendrick verse is a cut above. On “Nosetalgia,” Pusha T is the jaded kingpin reliving his past while Lamar is one of his present-day victims, and the (likely intentional) difference in expressiveness makes you feel Lamar’s words much more. His verse tugs on your heartstrings in ways that Pusha’s just can’t. Lamar speaks on the infusion of drugs into his family and community, specifically addressing how his aunt pawns off his Sega Genesis to fund her fix while his father gets high off of the supply he was supposed to be selling. In Dot’s words, he “broke his nails misusin' his pinky to treat his nose.” Lamar ends the verse by revealing that he’s also a dealer, but it’s his verses that are the bricks of coke. His goal as a rapper, in that sense, is to get us addicted to his music. If that’s the case, you can call me a fiend.

Best Bars: “When I was ten, back when nine ounces had got you ten/And nine times out of ten, niggas don't pay attention/And when it's tension in the air, nines come with extensions”

JAY-Z on “What’s Free” by Meek Mill

At this stage in his career, JAY-Z has nothing left to prove. He’s transcended the music industry and has since sat in rooms that he couldn’t have predicted in his wildest dreams. In that sense, it’s fitting that he raps like the cool uncle who’s lived a thousand lives and is trying to give his nieces and nephews cold-hearted truths that mom and dad haven’t quite yet revealed. Hov tackles everything from his business acquisitions to institutional racism in one breath, and that’s not hyperbolic. In this opening scheme, he flips a reference to the 3/5ths compromise into his ownership of various entrepreneurial ventures:

In the land of the free, where the blacks enslaved

Three-fifths of a man, I believe's the phrase

I'm 50% of D'USSÉ and it's debt free

100% of Ace of Spades, worth half a B

Roc Nation, half of that, that's my piece

Hunnid percent of TIDAL to bust it up with my Gs

Hang onto every word of this JAY-Z verse. Honestly, you should always be doing that.

Best Bars: “I ain't got a billion streams, got a billion dollars/Inflating numbers like we 'posed to be happy about this/We was praisin' Billboard, but we were young/Now I look at Billboard like, ‘Is you dumb?’”

JID on “SIRENS | Z1RENZ” by Denzel Curry

Denzel Curry’s TA1300 majors in social commentary, and “SIRENS | Z1RENZ” is no exception. Curry writes from the perspective of someone relying on their faith in God while their surroundings are going to Hell. Although much of what he says is lucid, more than a handful of these lines are heavy-handed and awkward. After JID’s verse, did he need to get back in the booth and add that the “President is a puppet…Donald Trump, Donald Duck, what the fuck is the difference”? You’re better than that, ‘Zel. JID, on the other hand, dissects Black America's relationship with the government, cleverly framing it as a romantic partnership in which he feels neglected. Whichever way you interpret the verse, it adds depth to the scathing albeit surface-level critiques from Curry. (The brilliant, uncredited Billie Eilish vocals on the chorus are a great touch too.)

Best Bars: “Oh say, can you see a hundred dead bodies in the street/By the dawn's early light, double Sprite and a R.I.P. tee/So proudly, lights gleam, let the gun blaow in the night time”

Black Thought on “Crowns for Kings” by Benny the Butcher

If you let Benny the Butcher tell the story, we’re all late to his party: “I'm fresh out of luck, I'm here 'cause I deserve to be, nigga/I sat back, a vet, and watched beginners winnin' my belts/Burned my bridges, came back a good swimmer like Phelps.” The Buffalo-hailing spitter needs you to recognize that you couldn’t accomplish half of what he has—whether that’s in drug dealing or rapping. Well, unless your name is Black Thought. One of the very few humans walking this Earth who could write a more quotable verse than Benny, Thought makes you forget that he’s only a guest on “Crowns for Kings.” As The Roots’ frontman grew up “facin' the darkest outcome, sprintin' to outrun the reaper/Trying not to be the food in the mouth of the beast,” he can now tell that same devil that “you're never catchin' me/Even though you been after me, motherfucker/You gotta bring a army to harm me.” Matter of fact, Black Thought brings an army to Benny on this song, only it’s an army of similes and metaphors wrapped in multisyllabic rhymes and a dizzying flow. For the record, it’s the best verse on this list. 

Best Bars: “I've established the average to always bat a thousand/So after butcherin' this track, it's back to countin'/The money generated from me leavin' microphones broke/Probably almost on par with all of Escobar's coke”

Tyler, The Creator on “Something to Rap About” by Freddie Gibbs

Is this what heaven sounds like? Borrowing chords from “On Love” by David T. Walker—previously sampled by the likes of A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul—The Alchemist provides a perfect opportunity for Freddie Gibbs and Tyler, The Creator to introspect about, well, having something to rap about. Gibbs even says as much right away: “God made me sell crack, so I had somethin' to rap about.” It’s a well-penned verse even if a bit short compared to Tyler’s. A long way from Goblin, Tyler is as confident as ever, sharing predictions about the outcome of this very song. The lines “Freddie sent me this shit/This sound like the boat I haven't bought yet” and “I'll be in Mykonos, lemonade, sippin' slow/Jumpin' in the water off that boat I haven't bought yet” deftly bookend his verse. Tyler offers tighter flows, better bars, and more personal storytelling than Gibbs on “Something to Rap About.” Still, it’s certainly a treat to hear these two hip hop veterans spit together.

Best Bars: “This lake water better than the faucet I grew up with/We hold our breath like grudges 'til we nauseous”; “I'm grounded like the pavement, we ain't linkin' like the bracelet broke”


Lil Wayne on “HOT WIND BLOWS” by Tyler, The Creator

Call Lil Wayne if you want a good feature, but don’t be mad when he runs laps around you. On the cocky “HOT WIND BLOWS,” both Tyler and Wayne offer braggadocious bars about traveling, with the lead “playin’ hide and seek with the passports,” wondering “where the fuck we at? Oh the pilot gotta remind us,” and flexing “fish so fresh that you could taste the sand.” (That last one doesn’t totally make sense, but it sounds cool.) But when Wayne shows up, the energy shifts. One thing Weezy will always do is stay on topic, so he offers a beach bar or two, but quickly moves on to call out exactly what’s about to happen in his verse: “I fuck 'round and slow the beat down and take the drums out/And speed up my flow, I'm so greedy, I'ma eat my own flow.” If you didn’t guess, the beat drops out and Wayne goes a cappella for a moment before rapidly rattling off the rest of his verse. Rappers tend to deploy the “cut the beat” gimmick too often, but when it’s done in a fashion that’s earned, they create real standout moments. This Wayne verse sounds so effortless, which by itself shouldn’t be surprising, but the longevity of one of the best feature artists in the history of the genre ought to be celebrated.

Best Bars: “​​The corner beat, I'm on a deep route, just throw the ball to me/Thought all this lean would have me senile, I guess they see now/Let's touch down, catch a beat-down like I catch touchdowns”

André 3000 on “Life Of The Party” by Kanye West

Ye dedicated much of 2021’s Donda to his late mother Donda West—going so far as to call her the “life of the party” on the posse cut “Jesus Lord”—so it makes sense that one of the best verses on the record pays tribute to the lasting impact of a great mother. The catch? Said verse doesn’t come from Ye. Unfortunately, like most of his 2020s output, West’s verses are haphazardly littered with freestyle-esque non-sequiturs that don’t match his guest’s energy at all. On “Life Of The Party,” André 3000 asks “Miss Donda/You run into my momma please tell her I said, say something” in an effort to reconnect with her. He makes confessions about his youth as if his mother is listening to him in real time, but also masters an almost timid delivery that makes you feel like he’s personally revealing these stories to you. Compared to other verses on this list, “Life Of The Party” is very light on wordplay in the traditional sense, but this 3 Stacks feature still shines as one of the best, especially when understood as a series of mature vignettes that are both easy to follow and emotionally gripping. What’s not to love about loving your mom?

Best Bars: “I'm startin' to believe ain't no such thing as Heaven's trumpets/No after-over, this is it, done/If there's a Heaven, you would think they'd let ya speak to your son”

Drake on “Churchill Downs” by Jack Harlow

From the opening piano note that ushers in a high-pitched vocal sample, “Churchill Downs” immediately sounds like a Drake outro. This beat is tailor-made for his diary raps, which we get about two-and-a-half minutes into the track after sitting through diet-Drake flexing his seemingly improbable success story. He is at least a thoughtful grandson (“I know my grandpa would have a heart attack if I pulled a hunnid grand out/So I'm not gonna pull a hunnid grand out”) and wants his listenership on the same page (“At the shows I'm 'bout to start handin' out programs/'Cause y'all need to get with the program.”) You can hear Harlow trying his hardest to attack this beat exactly how Drake would, but he just can’t. It’s awful. So how does Drizzy do? As usual, he raps like he’s penning a quick journal entry from the mountaintop, one littered with questions asked and references made to his son, therapy sessions, and past beef that he still can’t quite get over. Verses of this ilk have become second nature for Drake, and so, after a blitz of tongue-and-cheek questions (“How much water can I fit under the bridge before it overflows?” and “I got my realtor out here playin' Monopoly/How can I address you when you don't own property?” are both sick), you’re only left with one: why was this verse wasted on a Jack Harlow record?

Best Bars: “Lucky me, people that don't fuck with me/Are linkin' up with people that don't fuck with me to fuck with me/This shit is gettin' ugly”; “Prayin' on my downfall don't make you religious, man”

J. Cole on “Johnny P’s Caddy” by Benny the Butcher

About ten different Cole verses could’ve made this list after his feature run over the last half-decade, but this one in particular answered a lot of questions. Fans had long clamored for a new collaboration between Cole and “Johnny P’s Caddy” producer The Alchemist, hoping to hear the Fayetteville MC on the dusty drums we’ve come to love Alc for. Safe to say, Cole delivers. Not letting an Alchemist beat go to waste is one thing, but outrapping Benny the Butcher—a member of Griselda, a collective who lives on these kinds of beats—takes this performance to a whole new level. Cole’s verse employs some of the best punchlines you’ll find on this list, with double entendres laced into myriad allusions to success and hard work. He even warns you right before he goes off: “You know what it is, when I show up/I’m on ten, nigga, not nine.” Listen closely and you’ll be stuck with a stank face the whole time.
Best Bars: “Nigga want me on a song, he gon' see the wrath of the reaper/I'm prolly gon' go to Hell if Jesus ask for a feature”; “Eureka, Einstein on the brink of the theory of relativity/Really, no MC equal, feel me?”



edited Eric Harwood.

artwork by Sally North.

Kristen Wallace

Kristen is a Bronx born and raised hip hop head with a soft spot for R&B. He grew up singing both in church and in high school: he’s a decent bass. If he has a bad take (he won’t) you can tell him personally @kristenwallace_ on Instagram.

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