The 10 Best Songs Featuring Kanye West Singing

Kanye West is many things : auteur, scream-rap sorcerer, disobedient fashion intern, table jumper-on-er, successor to the Kardashian enthrone. West has besides been to known to belt into song—the man is not embarrassed of his technically limited sing voice. With his newly album leaking all over the Internet, we present to you the 10 greatest songs that feature Kanye Tudda sangin ’ .

This fallowed, reverb-dunked track sounds less like a night on the town than a digital barren. West gets stick babysitting a daughter who can ’ thymine hold her liquor : “ Aaaaaaaaaaaa, that ’ s how the sleep together you sound. ” Poetry .

A shaky, acapella stroke of improvisation recorded in front of 20,000 or so Singaporeans. While 808s & Heartbreak sometimes sounds like a bad Nick Zammuto album, “ Pinocchio Story ” will leaven you in its poignance .

As music and as biography, “ Hey Mama ” rules. West is tender, needy, overprotective and a touch corruptible ( “ I ’ megabyte going back to school ” ) in this letter to his beget, who he excellently spoiled until her death from plastic-surgery complications in 2007.

West sings of having Trainspotting -worthy nightmares on, of all things, a Young Jeezy single. Jeezy is gumpish as common, rhyming about redbone side chicks and “ purulent nigger, ” but West ’ s heavy-hearted self-disclosure makes “ Put On ” a must-hear .

A College Dropout smasher that flips Aretha Franklin ’ s “ Spirit in the Dark ” into a tutorial on fraternize : “ Alpha, step/Omega, step/Kappa, step/Sigma, step. ” It sounds like Yeezy gained some position on his measly collegiate years, once at a certain absent ; “ School Spirit ” is funny and admirably barren of animosity .

Kanye being Kanye, his relationship postmortem included slam poetry and Chris Rock saying “ asshole ” seven times. Part apology, part apology, “ Blame Game ” jumps down the logic lapin hole pretty early— “ You should be grateful that a nigger like me ever noticed you, ” West raps. still, what a piece of music. The track concludes with West carrying a note more competently than he always had in his extracurricular sing career.

On “ Can ’ metric ton Tell Me Nothing, ” West instructed us to “ let the champagne splash. ” On “ Runaway, ” he proposes a toast to the “ assholes, ” “ douchebags ” and “ jerk-offs ” of the world. ’ Ye has always been indelicate with his language, but he ’ second besides kind and odoriferous than he ’ sulfur normally given credit for. “ Runaway ” is a basically dulcet song. Underneath all the talkbox, prog guitar and cosmopolitan whirl, these are humble pastures .

With 808s & Heartbreak, West wanted to buck the constraints of junior-grade pop music, so he turned to Hood or Postal Service or God knows who for inhalation. The resulting album was confused and undercooked, with one insanely poignant exception : “ Street Lights. ” West multitracks a gospel choir into eternity, precisely like the old days ( see The College Dropout ’ s “ Family Business ” or Late Registration ’ s “ Bring Me Down ” ), and the consequence is so gorgeous that it practically beggars belief.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is Kanye ’ s most comprehensive album, but The College Dropout is his most emotional. Whether or not Everyman Kanye is your steez—many people seem to prefer Graduation -and-after Kanye—you can ’ deoxythymidine monophosphate not appreciate the spiritually inclined confessional “ Spaceship, ” where a young West pray for an out of his 9-to-5 doldrums. For all his talk of divine ordainment, West intelligibly did not know that he was on the precipice of a momentarily fruitful career when he was slinging fleeces at the GAP .

Kanye the valet ? Believe it. The homo who would late tear his ex-fiancée from arm to limb ( proverbially speaking, anyhow ) on the embitter 808s & Heartbreak started out as an ingratiate amatory. On “ Slow Jamz, ” West wines and dines a discerning dame supporter : “ She said she wants some Marvin Gaye, some Luther Vandross, a little Aretha. ” “ Slow Jamz ” is all acoustic guitar and cottony seduction—West even croons the first poetry in a shy, cunning falsetto .

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