This verse from Mr. Muthafuckin eXquire remix. Not only does he tell a story about rebellion and corruption but he counts to 16 while doing it. That last line just kills.

Straight shots of the sterno plus, wick stuck in the bottle empty

Three blocks to the target we lit it and lob it hard at Sentry

Four pigs of the oinking variety guard the market entry

Five minutes of flames and then aim the whistle my father lent me

Six o'clock we meet up and divvy the shells among the youngins

Seven continents in the shit and smoke like it's fuckin London

Just before they ate up the funds our harmony love was bumping

Now government issue nines are pointed where your blood is pumping

Tend to mop up these muttering zombies talker pieces

El'll vent on you harder than Fukushima breezes

In the end when a dozen or so ajourn to reason

You'll find the verdict return corrupted in murderous seasons

With inverted 31's and other unlucky omens

Thats why I chug 7 and 7's til I'm fucking homeless

And every time you think my fifteen minutes of fame are up

I'll spit another sixteen to prove to the world I fucking own it