Top 10 Narrative-Driven Rap Albums

About a week and a half ago, Tory Lanez put out I Told You, an album more devoted to an autobiographical through-narrative than any other we've heard this year. Interspersing almost every track with skits that held our hands through the trials and tribulations of his come up, the Toronto singer/rapper revisited a style of album that's never been hugely en vogue at one time or another, but has been a key facet of hip hop for over 25 years. Making a song that's structured as a chronological story is hard enough, so it's no wonder that so few rappers have even attempted to stretch that method into an album's worth of material. 

Albums like Lanez's differ slightly from another ambitious album format, the concept album, in that their plots are believable (if not 100% true) and relatable. Making 66 minutes of music about a demented gynecologist from Jupiter coming back in time to terrorize women on Earth is a challenge in and of itself, telling a similarly lengthy story based on your own experiences may be even more difficult, depending on the extent of your imagination. Today, we're focusing on the latter, though there is some overlap with our previous list of the best hip hop concept albums (most realistic narrative-driven albums are considered concept albums, but not all concept albums have realistic narratives). 

Some more guidelines for this list: many rappers release albums that have overarching themes or very loose concepts (think Kanye's college-themed trilogy or Tyler, The Creator's bizarre therapy episodes on Goblin), but we're looking for more concrete, chronological storytelling. Jay Z's released a few albums loosely based on his drug-dealing past, but none supply distinct beginnings, rising actions, climaxes, and conclusions. Also, the more close-to-reality, the better. Mr. Lif's I Phantom is one of the most vividly illustrated plot-driven albums ever, but as it takes place in the waning days of a nuclear holocaust, it's a little more sci-fi than documentary.

Without further adieu, here are the ten best narrative-driven hip hop albums, fittingly presented in chronological order. 

The grandaddy of skit-driven opuses, this follow-up to the Long Island trio's critically-acclaimed 3 Feet High And Rising is based on their actual career, but follows a fictitious storyline. DLSID begins with its protagonist finding a De La tape in the trash and promptly getting beat up by a group of bullies, who steal the tape. What follows is over an hour of De La songs interspersed with skits that feature the bullies talking about how wack they are, making for a self-deprecating masterpiece. De La's critiques of commercial and gangsta rap are contrasted with the bullies' interludes to great effect ("What happened to the pimps? What happened to the guns? What happened to the curse words?"), making for an album that's as much in conversation with itself as it is with the outside world. 

Admittedly the album with the loosest adherence to a narrative on this list, Ready To Die is more important for its autobiographical detail and sobering themes. As the cover suggests, we begin with a skit that depicts Biggie's birth (over Curtis Mayfield's "Superfly," no less), then as "Rapper's Delight" kicks in, we hear his parents arguing over what to do with their rowdy son, then we move to a scene of Biggie and a friend robbing a store, and finally we conclude with him getting out of jail. That intro skit contains more actual storyline than the rest of the album, but it informs the downward spiral that ensues when B.I.G. gets back out on the street. "Things Done Changed" reflects on the grisly transition from easygoing block parties to shootouts that Big's witnessed firsthand in Brooklyn, "Gimme The Loot" recounts a robbery play-by-play, and paranoia begins to creep in on the assassination-themed "Warning." Things unravel slightly as Big gives himself a chance to enjoy his newfound fame and female attention in the album's middle section, but the build-up to closer "Suicidal Thoughts" is undeniably well-constructed in its use of mood and momentum. Ready To Die is less a scene-by-scene retelling of Biggie's life, and more of a crystal-clear explanation of why an album that begins with his birth bears such a depressing title. If you don't believe him at the start, you sure will by the end.

The main architect of De La Soul Is Dead, producer extraordinaire Prince Paul is the only guy to appear on this list twice, thanks to one of the most cinematic albums of all time, in any genre, A Prince Among Thieves. The plot is a wholly fictional, but easily believable tale of a dude named Tariq who, shaken by the death of a friend and depressed by his dead-end job, takes up drug dealing after meeting the charismatic character True. What follows is a painstakingly constructed and narrated plot fit for a movie of its own, right down to the dark conclusion.

Speaking of cinematic, Onyx member (and future actor) Sticky Fingaz's debut album begins with Universal Studios' theme music before the narrative unfolds. Like A Prince Among Thieves, Blacktrash follows the story of a fictitious, but believable character named Kirk Jones, and like Ready To Die, things begin with the protagonist getting out of jail. Sticky runs us through many aspects of street life, from gang banging to not-so-merry Christmases, from spirituality to relationship drama, presenting a wide-ranging but focused portrait of a character based off many people in his actual life. We're left with a bleak portrait of life in America's most dangerous neighborhoods, all capped off by a queasily sarcastic cover of Louis Armstrong's "What A Wonderful World." 

Among the most relatable rap albums to listeners from any background, Mike Skinner's second album under The Streets moniker follows a made-up story of an average joe losing 1,000 pounds and trying to get things started with a girl named Simone. The two plots are presented as counter to one another, with Skinner losing the grand just as he's first hooking up with Simone, and then finding it at the album's end, after she's cheated on him with one of his friends and broken up with him. Tales of drinking, smoking, arguing, hitting on girls, mistrusting your friends, and misplacing money have never been told with such vivid British detail.

After his heyday in the late '80s and early '90s, Brooklyn's Masta Ace began focusing on increasingly narrative-driven albums, starting with Disposable Arts' fictitious tale of a man getting home from prison and enrolling in "The Institute Of Disposable Arts," and peaking on A Long Hot Summer, a semi-autobiographical tale of a struggling rapper's rise during one of NYC's famously hot summers. Told with as much care and heft as a Spike Lee film, the album offers intriguing portraits of Ace's city and the stories of many who have made it and folded in the rap game. Ace never equaled his "Sittin' On Chrome" commercial peak with these conceptual masterpieces, but artistically, he refused to stop growing. 

Leave it to The Roots to put out one of the most intricately-constructed concept albums of all time. Undun is a standard day-in-the-life narrative, only it's told in reverse-chronological structure, and it takes place on the day of its protagonist's death. We follow Redford Stevens from his flat-lining heartbeat to his dying thoughts, to his actual death, to his past as a drug dealer, to a closing four-song instrumental suite that, according to the band's manager, is meant to signify that the "outcome of your life is definitely gonna be affected by your surroundings, statistically." Whew. This is one you need to listen to several times to fully grasp. 

Following one of the headiest day-in-the-life narratives ever attempted is one of the most down-to-earth. KRIT's 2012 mixtape begins with him waking at 8:04 AM and ends with him going to bed at 5:04 AM, with his day being filled with reminiscing, driving his cars, hitting the liquor store, and writing new rhymes. There is a deeper undercurrent too though, with the title not only referencing the saying "forever and a day," but also suggesting that the concept or feeling of forever can be contained within one day, and the dichotomy between the secular and holy also being clear from the artwork. 

Undoubtedly the album that's done the most to renew interest in heavily plot-driven rap albums, Kendrick's breakout release had many quick to forget that Section.80 was also a concept album, albeit a less involved one. GKMC is nonlinear, but so autobiographical that it's impossible to ignore for a list like this. The album's portrayal of Kendrick's evolution from a rowdy teenager to a more methodical, mature adult is almost akin to Ready To Die in its explanation of its creator's origin story, of how such a reflective, low-key individual could be produced by one of the most violent, infamous neighborhoods in America. Kendrick runs the gamut of emotion in this one, bursting from the youthful exuberance of "Backseat Freestyle" to the jazzy reflection of "Sing About Me, I'm Dying Of Thirst." It all concludes with "Compton," a widescreen, credits-rolling celebration of his city if there ever was one. 

At the time of this album's release, no one thought YG would be the guy to make the best Compton narrative since good kid, m.A.A.d city, but via a combination of focus, documentary-style observation, and slick executive production from DJ Mustard, 4hunnid exceeded all expectations. It's definitely not as ambitious as Kendrick's album, but that befits YG's more utilitarian rapping style, which perfectly lends itself to a no-frills depiction of an average day in his life. Nevertheless, YG covers the spectrum on MKL, running through ignorant bliss, gang violence, robbery, loyalty, sex, and regret in a concise and well-paced fashion. Who said concept albums had to be complicated?