Eazy-E hit the scene in 1987 with a voice that sounded like it came straight off the block—high, sharp, and clipped, with a rhythm that snapped right into place. “Boyz-n-the-Hood” introduced him as a narrator who laid out life in L.A. without hesitation. The production moved slow and heavy, and Eazy delivered each line with steady control. His tone stayed cool while the verses stacked up violence, jokes, and neighborhood law.
Born Eric Wright in Compton, Eazy wasn’t focused on lyrical construction. Most of the verses on his best songs were written by others—Ice Cube, The D.O.C., MC Ren—but once the words were in his hands, he gave them a voice that couldn’t be ignored. On Eazy-Duz-It (1988), his solo debut, the beats knocked with deep bass, P-Funk samples, and tight drum patterns. Tracks like “Eazy-Duz-It” and “We Want Eazy” moved with bounce and swagger. His vocal presence carried the rhythm without overworking the delivery. Each line came in short bursts, direct and locked into the groove.
His style stayed consistent across different types of tracks. “Nobody Move” played like a hold-up in progress, with the lyrics snapping over Dre’s siren-laced beat. “Radio” followed a cleaner format, but kept the punch and the timing. Even with someone else writing the bars, Eazy gave the words a sound that stuck.
When tensions inside N.W.A exploded, Eazy kept recording with the same street-tuned approach. In “Real Muthaphuckkin G’s,” his tone hit colder, sliding over a stripped G-funk loop with control and focus. The bars didn’t stretch or wander—they dropped one after the other, measured and sharp. His delivery made the track hit harder than its structure suggested. He didn’t stretch syllables or switch up flows—he kept it flat, steady, and rhythmic.
Eazy-E’s impact didn’t come from lyrical complexity or vocal range. It came from sound, timing, and attitude. The beats gave him space, and he filled that space with presence. Whether talking street business, throwing threats, or clowning his rivals, he kept his delivery dry, clear, and locked into the beat.
This list breaks down 15 solo joints where that voice hit with full weight. Each one builds on rhythm, persona, and production—clean, loud, and without apology.
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Ole School Shit feat. B.G. Knocc Out, Gangsta Dresta, Sylk-E. Fyne) (1996)
A fiery Dr. Dre diss wrapped in pure West Coast venom, “Ole School Shit” brings together the Ruthless family for a blistering statement. Dresta kicks it off with a graphic takedown, setting a confrontational tone that never lets up. Sylk-E. Fyne and B.G. Knocc Out follow with fierce verses aimed squarely at Death Row, each spitting with purpose and pride. The beat rides low and ominous, carrying the track’s raw energy. Eazy-E closes it out himself, sealing the message with signature bite and clarity. There’s no ambiguity here—this is war on wax, sharpened with personal stakes and executed with ruthless precision.
Still A N***a (1993)
This slow-burning G-funk missive puts Eazy-E back on the mic with venom and full conviction. Produced by DJ Yella, the track laces a sinister, thumping groove beneath Eazy’s unfiltered declarations of identity, legacy, and raw disdain. He lays it out without polish, trading flash for grit, and cuts through with that unmistakable vocal tone—flat, fearless, and cold-blooded.
Whether calling out fakes, flexing street credentials, or throwing shots at enemies, Eazy stays committed to his image as Compton’s rogue ambassador. It’s a rugged slice of post-N.W.A. defiance, filled with smirking threats and unapologetic pride. Nothing about it sounds like compromise.
Tha Muthaphuckkin Real (1996)
There’s nothing polished about “Tha Muthaphuckkin Real”—and that’s the point. DJ Yella lays down a deep, no-frills bassline while Eazy-E and MC Ren trade verses with full-force conviction, locking into the kind of chemistry only built through history. It’s combative, territorial, and stripped of any need for gloss, with both emcees leaning into menace and legacy like they’re one and the same.
Eazy’s lines feel carved out of concrete: defiant, clear-eyed, and rooted deep in Compton’s asphalt. Ren opens with barbed fire, and Eazy closes with a sense of grim finality, recorded just months before his death. There’s no eulogy here—just a raw dispatch from someone who never once softened his edges. If anything, this record feels like Eazy’s signature scratched deep into the pavement.
Radio (1988)
A bright, bouncy dispatch from the heart of Compton, “Radio” spins like a pirate broadcast hijacking the FM dial. Styled as a call-in radio show, the track blends satire, self-promotion, and sharp-edged rhymes into a playful, hook-heavy package. Eazy-E flips between charming and confrontational, claiming space in listeners’ speakers with Dre and Yella laying down a rubbery, uptempo beat that refuses to sit still.
The lyrics bounce with confidence, skipping profanity in favor of a surprisingly clean flex—without losing an ounce of swagger. Cameos, shoutouts, and DJ banter keep the track in motion, turning it into a mock radio takeover that feels personal and public all at once. It’s like a broadcast statement, announcing Eazy-E as both voice and signal, wired directly into every room with a dial.
Just Tah Let U Know (1996)
With its glassy G-funk synths and rolling low-end bounce, “Just Tah Let U Know” rides smooth but hits hard. Stone Tha Lunatic’s production offers a warm, slow-burning beat that lets Eazy move between defiance and reflection with ease. He’s locked into his role—cold-blooded, focused on the come-up, and raw—delivering barbed threats and slick boasts with the clarity of someone who’s seen the game from every angle.
There’s a heavy air beneath the swagger, not from sentimentality, but from how final it all sounds. Posthumously released, this track carries a sharp sense of legacy in motion. Eazy’s delivery is laid-back but commanding, as if he’s still right there, posted up, letting you know that even gone, he’s not to be taken lightly.
10. 2 Hard Mutha's (1988)
“2 Hard Mutha’s” is a raw, chest-thumping tag-team assault from Eazy-E and MC Ren, soaked in aggression and blacktop swagger. Over pounding live drums from DJ Yella—set up by a hilarious intro about forgetting the drum machine—the track barrels forward like a backyard scrap with no rules. Eazy and Ren trade verses with unfiltered bravado, setting off threats, jabs, and ruthless punchlines without pause or polish.
Their chemistry is sharp, as they bounce off each other with menace and mischief, painting themselves as the kind of duo you don’t want to cross. The lyrics stay in attack mode, aiming at enemies, cops, and anyone daring enough to question their rep. With its stripped-down beat and relentless delivery, this track keeps its foot on the gas from the first drum roll to the final hook. It’s straight disrespect in motion—loud, raw, and locked into a street-born rhythm.
9. Luv 4 Dem Gangsta’z (1994)
A deep groove and cinematic West Coast polish give this soundtrack cut a slick, thumping edge. Produced by Doctor Jam with Eazy-E in the co-pilot seat, the beat rolls heavy on G-funk basslines, layered synths, and a live-wire guitar line courtesy of Slash—yes, that Slash. Eazy drops three verses filled with snarling charisma, barroom wisdom, and shoutouts to his hustler code, while Shaki’s chorus gives the track its chant-along flavor.
Originally released by MCA for the Beverly Hills Cop III Soundtrack, not Ruthless, this one sidesteps the usual formula and finds Eazy sounding revitalized—relaxed, but still deadly. It’s celebratory and menacing all at once, a hustler’s anthem that blasts loud out the Lac with the seat leaned way back. A left-field Eazy-E joint with unmistakable West Coast heat.
8. Nobody Move (1988)
“Nobody Move” unfolds like a heist flick told in real time, with Eazy-E and MC Ren storming into a bank and letting chaos spiral from there. The production flips reggae and soul samples—Yellowman’s title hook loops menacingly while dusty funk elements from Blowfly and Rufus Thomas lace the beat with grit and humor. Eazy performs the robbery, shifting from cold commands to absurd side-plots without blinking.
What starts as a simple stick-up twists into a derailed mess: hostages, jokes at the security guard’s expense, a botched seduction, and a final showdown with police. The writing is detailed and brash, balancing cinematic pacing with reckless comedy. Eazy’s tone stays matter-of-fact throughout, even when the story goes fully off the rails.
This track captures him in full character mode—audacious, unpredictable, and somehow still cool under pressure. The whole ride feels improvised but lands beat-for-beat like it was written for the screen.
7. No More ?’s (1988)
Structured like an interview, “No More ?’s” plays out as Eazy-E’s own origin myth. Over a laid-back funk groove and tight drum hits, Eazy walks through his early days of gang life, neighborhood hustling, and slick robberies—all delivered with a casual shrug. The backdrop, built by Dre and Yella, keeps it simple: snappy snares, funky guitar chops, and basslines that roll underneath the vocals.
The track’s setup is clever without being flashy. Questions from a faux interviewer (voiced by a young Regina King) frame each verse, and Eazy responds by unfolding stories of stickups, dice games, and truancy. Ice Cube’s pen sketches the scenes, but Eazy carries them with a smooth, conversational flow. He cuts in jokes, flexes, and outbursts with ease, moving from cold crimes to lighthearted humor in a single breath.
There’s no hook—just riffs and call-backs between verses. The dialogue pulls you in, and Eazy’s character keeps you there. It’s street storytelling without the usual bravado. The track shows that Eazy could entertain without firing a shot or calling out enemies—sometimes all it took was a smooth beat and a blunt story.
6. It's On (1993)
From the first bark of the intro, “It’s On” explodes with venom. The synths squeal and stutter over a pounding beat, clearing the way for Eazy-E to let loose with a barrage of unforgiving bars. The track is a frontal assault on former N.W.A partner Dr Dre, with each verse delivering raw energy and stinging jabs. Eazy doesn’t hold back—targeting his former ally with ruthless clarity and slick precision.
The writing leans heavily into parody and payback. Familiar lines from “Nuthin’ But a ‘G’ Thang” and “Deep Cover” get flipped, bent, and weaponized. The flow is tight, but it’s the tone that carries the weight: taunting, sharp, and filled with fury. Eazy rides the instrumental like he’s got something to prove—and every syllable makes sure you know he’s dead serious.
The hook repeats like a warning: “If it’s on, motherf*cker, then it’s on.” Each return to it hits harder, reinforcing the song’s unforgiving stance. No euphemisms, no diplomacy—just straight confrontation, delivered with theatrical swagger and pinpoint rage. Eazy’s message is clear: this is war, and he’s ready.
5. Eazy-er Said Than Dunn (1988)
From the first snap of the snare, “Eazy-er Said Than Dunn” locks into a cold groove—moody, minimal, and unapologetically streetwise. Dr. Dre and DJ Yella shape the beat around tight drum programming and a slippery funk loop, weaving in elements from Magic Disco Machine’s “Scratching” and Rufus Thomas’ “The Breakdown.” The result is a slick, stripped-down soundscape that leaves space for Eazy-E to cruise through with icy composure.
There’s a precision to Eazy’s delivery that cuts through the haze. He opens with a grin: “My name is Eazy, yeah, this is true / Keeping your attention is what I’m about to do,” and stays in full command for the next two minutes. Each line is built for bounce and replay value, laced with pride and just enough menace to keep listeners on edge.
Though the lyrics are clean, the tone is anything but soft. The track keeps its edge without leaning into shock—proof that attitude doesn’t need a parental advisory. The music video adds another layer, showing N.W.A. posted in clubs and drifting through Compton, grounded in local swagger.
A staple of Eazy-Duz-It and a standout from Eazy’s early run, this track thrives on confidence and restraint.
4. We Want Eazy (1988)
There’s no mistaking the tone of “We Want Eazy”—this is a full-blown victory lap, complete with crowd chants, booming bass, and a hook that sounds tailor-made for stage lights and smoke machines. As the third single from Eazy-Duz-It, it serves up a dose of fanfare with Dr. Dre and DJ Yella behind the boards, and Ren and Dre trading off intro duties before Eazy-E steps up to the mic.
Sampling Bootsy Collins’ “Ahh… The Name is Bootsy, Baby!”, the track draws funk into its DNA, pushing a rubbery groove that lets Eazy lean all the way into his braggadocio. He plays the ringleader with ease, delivering lines full of flair and self-mythology. “A miracle, modern creation,” he announces, riding the beat with sharp precision. The energy is playful but deliberate, with each bar feeding the track’s celebration of persona.
The structure mimics the feeling of a live performance, capturing the audience’s anticipation and release. It’s a moment built for the stage, with the kind of showmanship that invites chant-along participation. The music video runs with this idea, showing Eazy beaming into a concert from jail before breaking free and taking over the crowd in grand, cartoonish fashion.
As much as it’s a flex, “We Want Eazy” is also a moment of unity, with N.W.A. members playing key roles behind the scenes and on the mic. The result is a tightly-produced, high-energy anthem that lifts its star without letting the beat drop.
3. Eazy-Duz-It (1988)
The title track from Eazy-E’s debut arrives with a sneer and a smirk. From the opening bassline—slapped into place by Dr. Dre—to the gunshot-laced hook, the song doesn’t waste a moment setting the tone. It’s loud, brash, and packed with the kind of West Coast funk that made Ruthless Records a landmark.
“Eazy-Duz-It” rides a layered backdrop built from a deep crate of samples: Funkadelic, The Temptations, the Honey Drippers, Sly Stone, and more all flicker in and out of the mix. Dre, DJ Yella, and Eazy all share production credit here, but it’s Dre’s low-end bounce that does the heavy lifting. The result is a sonic blend that feels chaotic without losing control.
The verses stay locked in Eazy’s voice—playful, aggressive, cartoonish, and cold-blooded all at once. He narrates a series of misadventures through Compton: dice games gone wrong, gunplay on the block, jailhouse dealings, and vengeance served with a full clip. MC Ren’s pen guides the storytelling, but the vocal performance carries the delivery. Eazy’s cadence cuts through the instrumental, equal parts punchline and threat.
Every detail is exaggerated, every beat punctuated with swagger. The lines don’t chase polish—they double down on attitude. When Eazy calls himself a “hardcore villain cold roaming the streets,” there’s no metaphor to unpack. The confidence in each line pushes the performance forward, keeping the energy at a high even when the subject matter takes a darker turn.
Released as a single in 1989 alongside “Radio” and “Ruthless Villain,” “Eazy-Duz-It” became an early signature—audacious in both sound and subject. From the street scenes to the studio cuts, it captures a moment in time before the industry caught up to what Ruthless was building. Eazy’s voice may have been pitched and sharp, but the impact hit low and deep.
2. Real Muthaphuckkin G’s (1993)
“Real Muthaphuckkin G’s” hits the ground swinging. The synths squeal with G-funk flavor, drums land heavy and direct, and Eazy-E wastes no time naming names. This is a diss track built for impact—targeted, detailed, and personal. Snoop and Dre are in the crosshairs from the opening bar, and the verses stay locked on them the entire run.
The beat flips pieces from “It’s Funky Enough” by the D.O.C. and Eazy’s own “Eazy-Duz-It.” Dre had a hand in both originals, but here they’re repurposed as fuel for a full-scale retaliation. The hook punctuates each verse like a cold stamp—“Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless”—tying the whole thing back to the label that Dre left behind.
Eazy trades verses with Gangsta Dresta and B.G. Knocc Out, both new additions to the Ruthless roster. They come in sharp, sticking to street credentials and calling out fake imagery. The accusations are laid out in detail: fake pasts, false sets, ghostwritten lyrics, and industry manipulation. None of it’s subtle. Every line hits with the same rhythm and tone. No punchlines. Just straight jabs.
Eazy’s flow stays tight and clean. He doesn’t stretch syllables or chase rhyme schemes. The vocal tone stays dry, letting the words do the damage. He circles back to old photos, old footage, and Dre’s departure from the crew. The lines about lipstick and bootcamp don’t pull back, and the message comes through without need for metaphor.
This was the lead single for the It’s On (Dr. Dre) 187um Killa EP. It marked Eazy’s most visible moment in the post-N.W.A era and became his highest-charting solo hit. The track doesn’t try to shift styles or moods. It holds a single position and pushes through with force. The production keeps things tight, and Eazy uses every bar to remind listeners what Ruthless really meant to him.
1. Boyz-N-The-Hood (Remix) (1988)
“Boyz-N-The-Hood (Remix)” hits with a thick, deliberate groove. The bass pulses low and slow under sharp snares, with each sample stitched in tight. Dr. Dre builds the beat from pieces of Whodini’s “I’m a Ho,” Jean Knight’s “Mr. Big Stuff,” and The Staple Singers’ “I’ll Take You There.” The track moves with weight but never crowds the vocal. Eazy-E rides that space with clipped, matter-of-fact delivery, slicing through the instrumental with each bar.
The remix version, recorded for Eazy-Duz-It, brings a cleaner mix and more defined punch than the 1987 original. Eazy’s voice cuts through the beat with a nasal sharpness that doesn’t stretch or bend. Ice Cube wrote the verses, but Eazy brings the voice that turns each line into neighborhood gospel. He doesn’t shift tone or speed—he keeps everything locked to the rhythm. The pacing stays steady from start to finish.
Across five verses, Eazy runs through a sequence of events with no buildup or breakdown. Every scene drops in one after the next—drinking, fights, drive-bys, stickups, and run-ins with cops. The structure mirrors the chaos in the lyrics. There’s no clear arc. Each verse resets the moment, and the hook snaps back in with the same rough energy: “The boys in the hood are always hard…”
Background voices from Dre, Cube, and Ren break up the verses with quick interjections and ad-libs, but the focus stays tight on Eazy. His flow stays dry and consistent, even when the lyrics jump into full violence or dark humor. The energy doesn’t spike or dip. It stays locked in place, and that control builds tension.
This version doesn’t polish the content—it sharpens the shape. The production hits cleaner, the vocals land harder, and the rhythm carries more force without speeding up or adding clutter. The result is a song that feels like it’s running on muscle memory: slow, tense, and straight to the point. Eazy doesn’t dress up the violence or the jokes. He delivers them with the same deadpan calm, all the way to the last verse.
“Boyz-N-The-Hood (Remix)” remains one of the clearest expressions of Eazy-E’s sound—spare, street-bound, and rhythmically locked.