Representing Brooklyn every step of the way, Masta Ace was born in 1966, and first appeared to the rap universe in 1988, on DJ Marley Marl’s Juice Crew posse cut, “The Symphony.” Appearing alongside heavyweights such as Big Daddy Kane, Craig G, and Kool G(enius of). Rap, Ace held his own on the jam-packed banger, laying the impressive, respectable foundation for a nearly 30 year career.

Today, we give flowers to Masta Ace in appreciation for all his hard work. Thanks, Duval.

Me and The Biz

Postin’ High

Beautiful

Jeep Ass Nigga

The Symphony

I.N.C. Ride

Little Young (Ft. Edo G.)

Sittin On Chrome

Acknowledge

— Tony Grands

So I found another gray hair this morning. In my beard. That makes number two. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t go all out trying to pluck it. But just as I got a decent fingernail grip on the little bastard, I glanced up, saw its older brother, and gave up. I’ll just shave later.

This coming March, of 2016 (God willing I make it in this city), I will turn 40 years old. I’m in just as much shock and awe as you, trust me. Back in my teen years, when I thought I was important and invincible (which I still think I am a little of both), I couldn’t imagine living four decades on this planet. Not that I lived a reckless life or suffered from any form of Tupac Syndrome, I just didn’t have the ability nor desire to envision my life so far in…

My mother’s younger brother introduced me to rap music when I was about 7 years old. It was roughly 1983. He’d come around with cassette tapes filled with various songs from whoever the hell these people were, and almost immediately, I was in love. This was the most beautiful combination of sounds I’d ever heard, and that’s coming from a man who was born in the late 70s, raised in a house where Black soul music pumped continuously. Continually. So much so that my father swiftly traded in his affinity for 70s funk and disco music for a genuine love of rap in the early 1980s. His love of Hip Hop hit him at the same time as mine.

His Earth, Wind, and Fire, Chaka Khan, and Stevie Wonder albums were (sorta) replaced by Whodini, Run DMC, LL Cool J, and EPMD tapes. Some years later, we’d bump DJ QUIK…

Complex.com is known for their attention-grabbing headlines and over-the-top content, but this is neither.

Compiled by numerous contributors, this list tackles the almighty question of which rapper is the best, and adds a little science. The ending result is a thorough breakdown of each year, complete with its champion and all the major players of honorable mention.

It’s a bit lengthy, but a recommended read for rap fiends and Hip Hop heads regardless of age. Shout outs to Ice Cube, Snoop Doggy, and Kendrick Lamar for holding the West coast down (Tupac is from New York). And for the sake of discussion, I’ve stripped the list down to its skeleton:

1979 Grandmaster Caz
1980 Kurtis Blow
1981 Kool Moe Dee
1982 Melle Mel
1983 Run
1984 Run
1985 LL Cool J
1986 KRS-ONE
1987 Rakim
1988 Slick Rick
1989 Big Daddy Kane
1990 Ice Cube
1991 Q-Tip
1992 Redman

Let’s be clear; there are a lot of rappers. Judging by my findings, there are literally thousands of dudes (and ladies) on the Internet chasing their dream of becoming a popular, successful rap star. You probably know someone that is currently devoting their energies into tapping into the seemingly endless resource that rap music has become. Hell, it’s like America’s #1 export. In fact, a study recently done shows rap music as the most influential genre of music over the last 40 or so years.

I’ve noticed an influx of sites doing bracket-like competitions to whittle rap artists and albums down to the best ones, respectively. Most recently, Mobb Deep’s The Infamous won as the hardest rap album of all time via PassionOfTheWeiss and I’m totally fine with that.

The task of finding “the best” of anything is undoubtedly arduous, even if it is decided by a voting system. Opinion…