Ghost has a couple different flows, a couple different styles, but what's so great about him is his ability to sound raw over almost any type of beat: hard, soft, gritty, polished, r&b...
I look at it like this:
There's his original Wu-Tang sound, which is Ghost's flow in it's most basic form. He's most telling stories and describing how sick he is. (Protect ya Neck, Can It Be, Bring The Ruckus)
Then there's his flow through the Wu's first solo's. Ghost takes a giant leap forward with his vocabulary, subject matter, and change of pace. (4th Chamber, Tiger Crane, Verbal Intercourse, Poisonous Darts)
The only man a ho wait for
Is the sky-blue Bally kid, in eighty-three, rocked Taylor's
My Memorex performed tape decks, my own phone sex
Watch out for Haiti bitches, I heard they throw hex
Yo, Wu whole platoon is filled with raccoons
Corner-sitting wine niggas sipping Apple Boone
This ain't no white cartoon
Cause I be ducking crazy spades
The kid hold white shit, like blacks rock ashy legs
Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet?
Why did Judas, rat to Romans while Jesus slept? Stand up
You're out of luck like two dogs stuck
Iron Man be sipping rum, out of Stanley Cups, unflammable
Noriega, aiming knives which stay windy in Chicago
Spine-tingle, mind boggles
Kangols in rainbow colors, promoters try to hold dough
Give me mine before Po, wrap you up in so-and-so
I ran the Dark Ages, Constantine the Great and Henry the Eighth
Built with Genghis Khan the red suede Wally Don
On Wu-Forever he comes on some new shit but it's not a different flow, it's in between the evolution from "First Solo Style" to his "Supreme Style".
Then there's the Supreme flow. Insane metaphors and vague portions of stories told using some deep slang that sounds like it's 50% made up by Ghost. He takes another step towards this style with Oh Donna, then Cobra Clutch, and then premiers what he's been working on with Supreme Clientele. (Nutmeg, Mighty Healthy, Ghost Deini)
Aiyyo spiced out Calvin Coolidge, loungin with 7 duelers
The Great Adventures of Slick, lickin with 6 rugers
Rock those, big boy Bulotti's out of Woodridge
Porch for the biggest beer, season giraffe ribs
Rotissiere ropes, hickory scented mint scented glaze
Perfected find truth within self, let's smoke
All hail to my hands, 50 thou' appraisal
Dirty nose with the nasal drip, click flipped on fam
Dancin with Blanch and them bitches, flickin goose pictures
Kick down the ace of spades, snatch Jack riches
Olsive compulsive lies flies with my name on it
Dick made the cover now count, how many veins on it
Scooby snack jurassic plastic gas booby trap
Ten years workin for me, you wanna tap shit?
Bung bung bung! Your bell went rung rung rung!
Staple-Land's where the ambulance don't come
After Supreme comes his W Style. On Supreme he didn't just blast out random words at a mile a minute, he also showed the ability to go in over a soft slow beat, tell a nice story, but at times hit a nice line of syllables to show his newly crafted skill. On "The W" he took what he did over Child's Play then added tricks and different emotions to his words, adding stutters, changing his pitch, harmonies that referenced old school soul or hip-hop tracks... really it's just as impressive as the stuff on Supreme. (I Can't Go To Sleep, Hollow Bones, Jah World.)
Technique is ill, son, watch how I spill one
Peace to Biggie, 2Pac, Big L and Big Pun
Havoc on the streets of Staten, snitches
House niggas, children watch as they produce the same pattern
Somebody raped our women, murdered our babies
Hit us with the cracks and guns in the early 80's
For those that murdered me shall stand before God
To fall at the hands of fate, then out comes the rod
Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back!
What the fuck is going on? I can't go to sleep
Feds jumping out their jeeps, I can't go to sleep
Babies with flies on the cheeks, it's hard to go to sleep
Ish bowled 2 6's twice, I couldn't go to sleep
Aiyyo we deep in the stairs, we carry big guns
B got hit up with the big shit: bam-bam
Stop at the cheeba spot, then pass the leak spot
So past y'all niggas again, you took a cheap shot
Not knowing? Fuckin with me, you get your meat chopped
You thought we fell on our face? You need to be stopped
Call on the chariots! Call on an ambulance!
You better smile, my nigga: you on Candid Cam!
Gangsta broad, these be the laws, walk with big balls
Nigga, motherfucking eunuch, I even take which was yours
I'm the nigga that made you, man
When your rap wasn't doing well
I'm the nigga that gave you a hand!
After The W it seems like Ghost just goes through his different flows to what applies on each song. Sometimes he's hard and angry, sometimes he's laid back telling a detailed story. How would you describe Ghosts catalog? When you listen through his shit how many different styles do you hear?