Earlier this month, the Hip-Hop community reacted to the latest high-profile lists ranking the greatest Rap albums of all time. Rolling Stone magazine and a team of journalists and writers ranked 200 Hip-Hop LPs, prompting plenty of reaction. It was not the first list of this kind, and it certainly will not be the last.

In the latest episode of the What’s The Headline podcast, the Ambrosia For Heads team discusses why lists exist and how the Ambrosia For Heads staff treated them differently. If these definitive lists are truly intended opportunities to have conversations and (re)discover music, AFH deliberately created a tournament-style bracket in 2015 and 2016 that allowed polling from our millions of readers (including the allowance of write-in votes for transparency and democracy). The podcast hosts begin the episode by discussing this approach, laying out our personal Top 10s of all-time, and then pointing back more than six years ago to what the Ambrosia For Heads readers decided—and why it may be a far more accurate account of Hip-Hop greatness than most rankings.

In addition to video and audio embeds, the Top 20 are ranked below (in reverse order)—with some of the copy included at the time. In addition to the definitive “Sweet 16” determined by the readers (ranked by final standing), this consists of the four closest margins to make it 20.

The time codes for episode #84 of the What’s The Headline podcast (with hyperlinks to skip around):

0:00 Intro
1:20 Rolling Stone released a very controversial list of the Top 200 Rap Albums of All-Time
6:50 Why people care about lists
10:55 Ambrosia For Heads has hosted a number of competitions where millions of fans decided the greatest of all-time—MC, Album, Producer, Group
21:00 Why are women not given their proper respect as MCs
23:00 Discussing some of the more questionable Rolling Stone rankings
27:20 Our personal lists of the Top 10 Rap Albums Of All-Time
1:17:42 The Top 20 Rap Albums Of All-Time as decided by millions of AFH readers
1:39:50 Drake and Logic released new album this week

#20 – Kendrick Lamar – good kid, m.A.A.d city

(Lost to N.W.A.’s Straight Outta Compton, 41% to 59%)

Kendrick Lamar’s good kid, m.A.A.d city proved that Kendrick’s formula as an independent was wildly intact as a chart-soaring platinum act. The themes, the guests, and the sound of Kendrick Lamar were unscathed. However, the focus, refinement, and brilliant execution of concept were refined—whether due to artistic maturity, or the enhanced world surrounding the MC. While Kendrick Duckworth had two acclaimed (and charting) albums already under his belt, good kid… played like a debut. The 24-year-old returned to his childhood, family dynamics, and Hub City to find a detailed world of circumstances. “The Art Of Peer Pressure” was a charged ride-along with adolescents doing bad at extremely high stakes. “Good Kid” and “m.A.A.d city” were one-two punches on the juxtaposition of a highly observant, “chosen” prodigy living in a world where street gangs, hard drugs, and survival rule. Kendrick Lamar did not describe a world that delivered him. Instead, his beats, cadences, and angst kidnapped the listener to Rosecrans Avenue, fed ’em a Tam’s Burger, and tucked their chain in. Just as he’d done on the last album, Lamar showed that while the rest of the world was evolving, the C-P-T was still as Darwinist as any ecosystem in the world. “Sing About Me, I’m Dying Of Thirst” presented a Jazz-savvy poet, who rhymed with intellect and sincerity. However, even if the TDE star seemed like an artist unwilling to deliver lighthearted music, “Swimming Pools” would charm DJs with elements of Screw, EDM, and Trap—never shunning sophisticated flows or substance. In one captivating brush stroke, good kid, m.A.A.d city explained just who Kendrick Lamar was.

#19 – Boogie Down Productions – Criminal Minded

(Lost to Ghostface Killah’s Supreme Clientele, 46% to 54%)

Boogie Down Productions was a wrecking ball to the perceived confines of what Hip-Hop could be. KRS-One and DJ Scott La Rock masterfully (and unpretentiously) combined book smarts with street smarts. “Poetry” was literally and symbolically book-ended with “Criminal Minded,” as a formerly homeless teen had risen to “teacha” status alongside his real-life mentor. In New York City, B.D.P. was rushing stages with a confidence and a commanding live show. That brilliantly translated to wax, as “South Bronx” and “The Bridge Is Over” were not only defending Hip-Hop’s history in real-time but laying out the offensive strategy for its biggest musical clash to date. As Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, and Kool G Rap showed the culture’s artistic fertility in other boroughs, Criminal Minded reminded all that the Bronx was where it started. Criminal Minded, with its weapon-themed cover, packed a new brand of jacketed Rap ammunition. This LP blended violence (“9MM Goes Bang”), sex (“Remix For The P Is Free”), and straightforward songs about Rap (“Dope Beat”), all with heavy substance intertwined. Although KRS-One would shun promoting combat in music (Scott La Rock was murdered just after Criminal Minded was released), he balanced virtue and vice as effectively as any MC since. Criminal Minded presented an audiophile’s approach to music-making. This album brought the energy of the streets into the clubs, with an attitude that oozed Hip-Hop bravado and style.

#18 – De La Soul – 3 Feet High And Rising

(Lost to Madvillain’s Madvillainy, 47% to 53%)

Through their 1989 debut album, De La Soul expanded the creative walls of Hip-Hop. Posdnuos, Trugoy The Dove, and Maseo spoke in an abstract language. They made songs that were much more Dr. Seuss than Donald Goines. Yet, 3 Feet High And Rising was unafraid to tackle sex, poverty, drug addiction, and angst—even if the laymen missed it. The De La trio operated a way that existed on several frequencies. For those simply looking for musical escape, Prince Paul’s mosaic samples, veering from Parliament to Hall & Oates, Steely Dan to Schoolhouse Rock was a spaceship. For Heads looking for social commentary presented through inventive songwriting and skillful verse, DA Inner Soul Y’all had it locked. Few 1980s LPs are as emphatically album-like as 3 Feet… With the skits and sequencing, the Long Islanders made a work that challenged hit-seekers and distracted listeners alike. Although the masterfully cohesive LP is a sum of many parts, its singles still succeeded. “Buddy” was the perfect companion/sequel to Jungle Brothers’ “Jimbrowski,” as “Eye Know” was one of the more complex, and realistic accounts of pining courtship. Few outfits in the group-driven ’80s had two MCs cooperating as well as Plug 1 and Plug 2. This pair never upstaged one another—a truism of the next 25 years. Instead, they enhanced each other’s verses. At a time when Hip-Hop was in puberty, De La Soul’s debut album drew from life’s wonder years, honing in on the imagery, the innocence (and loss of), and the many joys of growing up.

#17 – Kanye West – The College Dropout

(Lost to JAY-Z’s The Blueprint, 49% to 51%)

Kanye West’s The College Dropout was a sonic amusement park of true-school (or “backpack”) inspiration, as well as the champagne sounds of the Rap elite. With these two worlds colliding, Kanye West’s multi-platinum debut would inform the next dozen years that good music is really just about getting out one’s musical dreams. More than just an idea, Kanye West represented a hunger story. “Through The Wire” told the tale of West’s undying dream to make his mother proud. Even confronted with a near-death accident and a forever-changed mandible, Mr. West could not be barred. The producer let the Chaka Khan vinyl croon while he convincingly stated his higher plan. “Never Let Me Down” did the same, as Kanye owned the moment with his mentor, Jay. Not just his own rags-to-riches trajectory, Kanye emphatically used the moment to trace his lineage through facing racism to embracing leadership. Although he saw himself as an underdog, ‘Ye also identified with the top of the class. The artist was not a contradiction as much as a complexity. The same artist who could preach from the pulpit on “Jesus Walks” could set the mood in “Slow Jamz.” “Spaceship” was the inward struggle to make it, while “Family Business” was a touching tracking shot through the cookout reunion. College Dropout forecast the rest of the 2000s, in showing artists they could be many things at once. Most importantly, the album increased the musicality to mainstream Hip-Hop. From the samples, to the arrangements, to the dynamic subject matters, the temperamental kid from the Windy City breathed freshness all over the art form.

#16 – Madvillain – Madvillainy

(Lost to A Tribe Called Quest’s Midnight Marauders, 35% to 65%)

In the early 2000s, MF DOOM was very much a dope-MC-for-hire. Madlib and Stones Throw Records became worthy suitors. Although the album may have had modest beginnings, the synergy between the two reclusive artists cultivated new career pathways for each. Madvillainy was a tremendous merging of two esteemed talents, who celebrated ignoring convention. Despite the whimsicality, they made a remarkably soulful LP. Behind the dusty loops and drenched lyrics is an album that’s become a hallmark to each artist, a label, and a redefined Underground Hip-Hop movement in the mid-2000s. Twenty-two tracks deep, Madvillain’s lone studio album is a sum of small movements. With most songs two minutes long, this album combated the trends of the mainstream in all ways, despite its surprisingly large (eventual) profile. Songs like “Accordion” played like a profound interlude. MF DOOM, hitting the pocket of Madlib’s quirky beat, blended cartoon references with brief allusions to his own mortality. Like Metal Face DOOM or Quasimoto, Madvillain stood as a character of the pair’s concoction. “Figaro” put DOOM in a sound that was wildly different than his own productions. As a 15-year vet was rising the ranks of MC lists, the complex rhythms of Madlib proved to be a combine drill of skill. “Fancy Clown” was a no-laughing-matter break-up track. DOOM spoke from within emotionally, as the producer made the song cry—literally. Madvillainy may be Madlib’s most intensive workshop. This unlikely pair, acting upon Madvillainy as an experimental one-off, would make career-defining chemistry together—a bomb in the shelter.

#15 – Eminem – The Marshall Mathers LP

(Lost to Raekwon’s Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…, 36% to 64%)

Before the new millennium, Eminem rode a rocket ship to the top of the charts and the elite class of MCs through The Slim Shady LP. The lyrically progressive album was big on pranks, sophomoric humor, and fork-tongued fun. One year later, Eminem refined his approach. This album looked more inward at the man behind the act. The Marshall Mathers LP would still make a mockery out of popular culture, but in between the jagged lines revealed the profane and the profound alike. Underneath the clown makeup was a creative genius, and a tormented soul—who wanted no sympathy from anyone. This is the album that proved Eminem had incredible staying power. “The Way I Am” was Eminem’s essay to fame. Rather than accept the misunderstandings, Marshall nipped them right in the bud. The song was a piercingly honest attack at his media portrayal and asserted that Hip-Hop was not responsible for massacres like Columbine and the like. Em’ was tackling bigger issues rather than poking fun at pop-tarts (which he still would do on “Real Slim Shady”). “Marshall Mathers” was a lucid commentary on the music stars and white MCs to whom Eminem was mistakenly compared. The scathing remarks were closer to the heart than past antics. Suddenly, Em’ transformed from Don Rickles to Lenny Bruce, with some insightful and derogatory thoughts of the world we all shared. “Stan” would be a masterpiece within M.M.L.P.  The record burred the lines in Hip-Hop and Pop, singing and rapping—at a time when those walls towered. The third album from the D12 front man would provide his fullest, most compelling production. The Marshall Mathers LP is a stone in the sand.

#14 – N.W.A. – Straight Outta Compton

(Lost to Public Enemy’s It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back, 39% to 61%)

“The World’s Most Dangerous Group” took Gangsta Rap to a new plateau with 1988’s Straight Outta Compton. N.W.A. (the working name for Ni**az Wit’ Attitude) accomplished plenty with their group debut. Eazy-E, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, and MC Ren spoke out against systematic oppression—in their lexicon with “F*ck Tha Police.” Meanwhile, the sextet (counting DJ Yella and Arabian Prince, as on the album cover) urged First Amendment rights too on “Express Yourself.” But not everything on the Ruthless Records debut had a deeper meaning. N.W.A. celebrated simply pissing off the moral majority on “Gangsta, Gangsta” and gave a firsthand account of a drug dealer’s perspective on “Dopeman (Remix).” The world (read: Compton) seemed to have a different set of circumstances and codes than much of election-year America. Straight Outta Compton became a subversive op-ed to those living comfortably numb to the ghetto reality. The Ruthless Records LP endures not just because of what it said, but how it said it. N.W.A. was an arsenal of talent on the microphone, with Cube’s between-the-ribs jabs of hard truth, Ren’s ability to flip words in an unbreakable stride, and Eazy’s constant playing to the audience. Dre was far from a slouch on the mic himself, though he and Yella arranged sounds in an unrivaled complexity for Hip-Hop. For as brash as N.W.A. may have seemed, the group showed a perfectionist dedication to their art. For those who related to N.W.A.’s world, Straight Outta Compton was a cathartic investigative report. For those who found the album to be thrilling awakening, the group packed the substance of Bob Dylan, with the “F.U.” flare of Guns N’ Roses. This album put five men, a city, and a way of life through music on the map.

#13 – JAY-Z – The Blueprint

(Lost to The Notorious B.I.G.’s Ready To Die, 22% to 78%)

In late 2001, JAY-Z was unabashedly jockeying for Hip-Hop’s top spot. An artist with ties to The Notorious B.I.G. and Tupac (in very different ways), Jay aimed to own the #1 spot squarely. One of the most poised peers, Eminem, was a producer and lone guest MC on the album. The other contender, Nas, was in Jay’s cross-hairs of high profile usurp, “The Takeover.” On The Blueprint, JAY-Z reinvented his sound. The Roc-A-Fella Records co-founder found the ultimate five-year progression from debut Reasonable Doubt. With a D-boy’s confidence and an exec’s get-it-done mentality, Jay pivoted to his 2000s stand as a Rap magnate. Often criticized for his resistance to vulnerability, Jay let the songs cry on his behalf. As the Roc Boy was lunging for the top, he made some of his most relatable music. “U Don’t Know” was the ringside celebration after the fight. Once dismissed as a drug-dealer MC, JAY-Z used cold Just Blaze production to show his Michael Corleone-like rise from New York crimes to The New York Times. The title track would also prove significant. The cold exterior of Hov gave way to an MC unafraid to not only acknowledge pain in his childhood but say thank you to his circle. That and “Song Cry” were hyper-aware reactions to Jay’s often lack of intimacy in songs. Together, the Roc’s in-house hit-makers of ‘Ye, Just, and BINK! made an album that may as well have been produced by one set of ears. The prominence of Soul, intricate chops, and broad instrumentation made this man’s words sound like prophecy. “Renegade” placed Jay and Eminem back-to-back, with a song that put the comparisons in the backseat and the lyrically-dense message in the front. The Blueprint cemented Jay’s status at pole position, showing how a great MC and a gripping story still benefits from patience and refinement. In the Hip-Hop landscape, The Blueprint is a skyscraper.

#12 – Ice Cube – Death Certificate

(Lost to Dr. Dre’s The Chronic, 38% to 62%)

For those starving for the Ice Cube they heard on Straight Outta Compton, Death Certificate signed a new lease on life. Following 1990’s AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted, a highly-acclaimed album recorded in New York City with The Bomb Squad at the helm, Ice Cube was back in his element, completely. Three months after Boyz N Tha Hood rocked theaters, Cube presented the audio companion to a cinematic look at life in South Central. Already a star, the MC checked his wealth and status at the door. Instead, O’Shea Jackson put himself in the shoes of an out-of-town drug dealer (“My Summer Vacation”), a visitor to the clinic (“Look Who’s Burnin'”), and a disenfranchised youth being followed around the stores he patronized (“Black Korea”). Almost all of Death Certificate is angry, unapologetic, and raw, but it is unarguably honest. Cube was still buckin’ shots at law enforcement and weaving in Rodney King. He criticized Black men with white women (“True To The Game”), and white men misusing Black women (“Horny Lil’ Devil”). Race and society, as perceived between the furrowed brow of the N.W.A. co-founder drove the way. Cube, such a rhythmic and commanding MC, lived between the wide grooves of Funk elements and bass drums—courtesy of Sir Jinx, DJ Pooh, and Bobcat. In between the bigger points, Cube could still unabashedly make novelty and porno Rap, and do it as well as anybody—including his former band-mates. After not directly addressing N.W.A. on the previous LP, “No Vaseline” would close out Death Certificate as perhaps the most cutthroat diss record not only of its era, but all time. Bottled up feelings reacted to N*ggaz4Life in a way where one man appeared to take on four, and come out untouched. Adamant that he was not trying to be a role-model, the Rap superstar was clearly reaching the mass audience with his emphatic deliveries and strong opinions. Before such terms existed, especially in the Hip-Hop space, Death Certificate showed how deeply Ice Cube understood his brand, and how to best leverage it.

#11 – Ghostface Killah – Supreme Clientele

(Lost to Nas’ Illmatic, 19% to 81%)

While the 1990s elicit great debate surrounding the greatest Wu-Tang Clan member solo works, Ghostface Killah threw a dart straight for the bull’s eye in Y2K. Supreme Clientele closely followed 1996’s Ironman with the swagger of a fighter already wearing the belt. “Ghost Deini” and “Apollo Kids” were ring-entrances, as a robed Ghost’ welcomed all challengers, lyrically and in the streets. As the sound of commercially-viable Rap had embraced fabric softener, messages like “Stay True” and “Buck 50” bloodied the gums of smile-at-the-camera posers. As the Rap playlist favored overt-samples, Pop-tinged choruses, and lots of R&B, Tony Starks’ penchant for the unconventional resonated brilliantly. Even playing by the rules of the game, a record like “Cherchez La Ghost” did so on rugged Shaolin terms—announcing that he’s too nasty for females, and no third verse at all. Like with Ironman, G.F.K. and his producers found a way to carefully inject 1980s Hip-Hop qualities. Although the mix and mastering of Supreme Clientele felt worthy of the Sony Records jacket, the would-be gold LP had the quality of a four-track recorder, and 12-second sampler. Dennis Coles stepped into the new millennium with grand visions of creativity, imagery, and coded slang, but he brought with him elements from his childhood that he refused to let go. More importantly, the LP’s lyrics are a step beyond the criminology heard on the debut. Largely inspired by a trip to Africa taken by Ghost’ and RZA, the album deals greatly with knowledge of self, heritage, and pride. Although G.F.K. was still menacing on the mic and in his details, the Gangsta Rap feel of the debut gave way to a more abstract texture. Supreme Clientele is the album that would catapult Ghostface Killah’s persona, and style through the next 20-plus years.

#10 – A Tribe Called Quest – The Low End Theory

(Lost to Wu-Tang Clan’s Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), 39% to 61%)

While 1990’s People’s Instinctive Travels & Paths Of Rhythm is a stellar album, A Tribe Called Quest hit their stride on 1991’s The Low End Theory. The Jazz-inspired LP would pocket a sound that A.T.C.Q. (now a trio, less Jarobi and with a significantly increased role for Phife) completely brewed up themselves—big on samples, wisdom, and an overall feel that melted just like “Butter.” The strong qualities of the group’s debut dispersed into beautiful arrangements, both vocal and musical—as heard immediately in single “Check The Rhime.” With one of the many featured Tip-and-Phife routines at center, the group casually waxed their history into a game-changing horn, bass, and drum concoction. That bass would be a defining feature of The Low End Theory—but not in the same way of the group’s Rap peers. With the acclaimed Ron Carter involved with the album, songs like “Buggin’ Out,” “Skypager,” and “Jazz (We’ve Got)” were as inspired by Charles Mingus as they were Afrika Bambaataa. However, in an era where many Hip-Hop acts were drawing on the glory days of Jazz, Quest was intent on never softening or stylizing their rhyme style. Album closer “Scenario” may be the group’s most aggressive mic display, with Phife aiming for the eyes, quite literally. For a group who would record together for less than a decade, The Low End Theory is a burden of proof as to why Tribe may be Hip-Hop’s greatest. This album is almost entirely self-contained, in terms of production, and lyrics. There are guests, but Phife, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, and The Abstract found their synergy on this effort. This album demonstrated how A.T.C.Q. could organically shape Hip-Hop, seemingly in their own vacuum. The Low End Theory is high-brow music, and a hallmark effort that so many artists dream of replicating in their own catalogs.

#9 – OutKast – Aquemini

(Lost to Eric B. & Rakim’s Paid In Full, 45% to 55%)

For a group that had helped make the South a destination for lyric-seekers in the 1990s, Big Boi and Andre 3000 appeared to be marginalized from the emerging mainstream movements of No Limit, So So Def, and Cash Money. However, with Aquemini, they sought little outside support—especially from those “face down in the mainstream.” Instead, the pair kept the circle tight and welcomed a bevy of session players into the Bobby Brown’s Bosstown Studios—which during the LP would become their privately-owned Stankonia. Upon exiting the lab, Outkast had another galactic gestalt of message-Funk stuffed with rhythms and flows that could not be replicated. “Rosa Parks” took the Civil Rights Movement’s inciting incident and illustrated how “the back of the bus” was actually where those in power wished to be. The fast-paced single broke from the a la carte offerings of the previous two albums but maintained the confident, socially-applicable premise and brilliant Rap commentary. Follow-up single (and next track on the album) “Skew It On The Bar-B” welcomed Wu-Tang Clan’s Raekwon for an effort that made a Dominique Wilkins-era dunk contest out of flow and cadence. At a time when Rap albums were seemingly seeking judgment based on video singles alone, Aquemini demanded to be looked at as a total sum of its parts. Deep cuts like “SpottieOttieDopaliscious” stretched a brassy groove with razor-sharp rhymes about reality and lifestyle shifts. On the album closer, “Chonky Fire,” guitars charged a sinister Stankonia seance—complete with an effortlessly human chorus to match the message. In Outkast’s final effort with Organized Noize and Mr. DJ taking on heavy production duties, Aquemini may be the group’s best marriage of rhymes and beats. Big Boi was a lyrical Barry Sanders, bolting up the field with his nimble flow and trademark cadence. Andre 3000 demonstrated a stick-and-moved with imagery, wisdom, and lines that prove to be Rap-relevant 20-plus years later.