MGJ – No More Glory (November 18, 1997)

Posted on 05/12/2026 by deedub77

The main reason I started this blog was as a way to work through my ever-growing hip-hop vinyl and CD collection. I have thousands of vinyl and CDs, and have only listened to about a fourth of them to date. I felt that cataloging and listening to them chronically would help me work my way through it more efficiently. In doing so, I’ve found some musical gems and discovered artists through a cameo or a compilation project that piqued my interest enough to take a deep dive into their catalogs. 8Ball & MJG are one of them.

8Ball & MJG were a Memphis duo who came on the scene in the early nineties. I was familiar with the group by name, but with so many dope groups and great music consistently coming out at the time, some artists just slipped through the cracks. During my review of the America Is Dying Slowly project, I fell in love with a song titled “Listen To Me Now,” featuring 8Ball & MJG. After that, whenever I came across anything in the used bins with the duo’s name, I bought it. I also bought some of their solo projects, including MJG’s solo debut, No More Glory.

After their third project, On Top Of The World, climbed to number 8 on the US Billboard 200 and became their first gold-selling album, 8Ball and MJG decided it was time to work on solo projects. MJG would strike first, releasing No More Glory in November of ‘97. MJG would call on the in-house Suave House production team, Mo-Suave-A Productions (a collective that included Tony Draper and T-Mix), to produce the entire album, and he’d call on The Fedz and 8Ball for a few features. NMG peaked at 20 on the US Billboard 200 and, like OTOTW, it would earn Marlon Jermaine Goodwin a gold plaque.

I recently tracked down copies of all four of 8Ball & MJG’s first four albums (they’re out of print, so a couple of them cost me a pretty penny). I’m almost done with my 1997 reviews, and when I finish, my plan is to live with and review their first four projects before I start 1998. But in the meantime, I’ll begin my 8Ball & MJG journey with MJG’s solo debut.

Keep Your Mind – The album opens with sprinkles of fairy dust and guitar plucks that sound like they’re yawning and stretching to begin a new day, while MJG shares a few encouraging words to help the listener stay focused on their goals, no matter what life throws at you. Then, the low-key drums and the elusive bassline drop, and our host proceeds to spit a hood motivational rhyme full of jewels that sounds inspired by Romans 12:2: “I can’t get caught up with the dirt that’s in the air, the bitches in my hair, or the niggas over there…I had to make my own path through my math, understand I had to be sad before I’m glad.” MJG does a great job of delivering his uplifting message without sounding preachy, self-righteous, or corny. It’s a dope record, and a great choice to begin your day with some inspirational music.

Hip Hop Voodoo – Marlon transforms into a rappin’ witchdoctor, “throwin’ pepper” in his naysayers’ salt and sticking needles in dolls for his get back on his adversaries as he aggressively attacks the synthesized horrorcore score (was MJG taking a shot at JT The Bigga Figga with his “Ain’t no victory out here tryna be the bigger figure” bar? Hmm…). MJG’s bars were decent, but the haunting G-funkish chords in the Mo-Suave production were extra tough and easily the star of this track.

10th Grade Skit – This skit takes MJG back to high school, where his teacher shits on his dream to become a rapper. Sometimes others’ hate makes for great fuel to help you reach your goals.

Good Damm Man – Mo-Suave slides MJG a bluesy mash-up as he shares some of the ghetto morals he upholds and makes him such a good damn man (i.e, shooting the shit out of potential jackers and bitch ass niggas, and buying women dinner in exchange for poom poom). MJG tailors his cadence to match the ill drum kick that comes in at the end of each bar, adding some extra flavor to his southern slang. The soulful harmony from the crew of anonymous voices co-signing our host’s “good damn man” boast during the hook sounds so god damn good that I’m convinced Marlon’s claim is true.

Shine And Recline – 8Ball joins his partner in rhyme for the first time on NMG as the duo paints the brightly beautiful backing music with their own brand of pimp propaganda and tough-guy grandiosity. The duo’s chemistry is undeniable, and the track’s slick underlying bass line sounds amazing.

That Girl – Marlon revisits Stevie Wonder’s song of the same title. Like Stevie’s scenario, some young tender has MJG wide open. Unlike Stevie, who pledges his mind, body, and soul to his lady love, MJG grows weary of his fine femme’s games by the end of the third verse. Rodney Ellis karaoke’s some of Mr. Wonder’s lyrics and chorus from the original and serves it justice. It’s a decent hip-hop remake, but it doesn’t hold a candle to Stevie’s classic original.

Slippin’ – MJG puffs out his chest to jackers and stick-up kids, pledging “Ain’t no motherfucka takin’ the shit I worked fo’, see that’s the reason niggas get killed and hurt fo’.” MJG’s two verses of false sense of invincibility are broken up by a skit of a woman setting up some goofy chump whose thirst for pussy has him walk blindly into her trap. I wasn’t crazy about this one, but the live bass guitar licks kept me interested when the rhymes didn’t.

Take No Shit – Bun B and The Fedz join MJG as they collectively vow to take no shit from bustas or hoes. Bun spits the strongest verse on the song, calling out a dead beat dad who tricks on random treats: “It’s sad puttin’ hoes in cribs, take ‘em out to eat lobster, tying they bibs, and can’t take care of your kids, just left ya baby mama man, the bitch is doing horrible, go see ya lil’ girl, nigga your child is adorable.” I found it interesting that they chose to censor the “bitch” in “break that bitch” during the chorus but allowed every other curse word in the song to breathe freely. Mo-Suave blesses the affair with more killer bass guitar licks that are guaranteed to keep your face scrunched as if you’re recovering from a stroke.

Pimpin Ain’t Easy – An uncredited male voice sings in a faux-Marvin Gaye falsetto about how hard his occupation is, simultaneously trying to justify his line of work. The vocalist’s meager performance is backed by somber seventies-blaxploitation-esque music. There’s really no need to listen to this more than once.

Black Mac Is Back – 8Ball joins MJG once again as the rappin’ pimps proclaim their return, even though they never really left. Fittingly, Mo-Suave interpolates Curtis Mayfield’s “Give Me Your Love” from the Super Fly Soundtrack for the instrumental, doubling the audio pimp pleasure.

No More Glory – The title track finds MJG sharing his journey through the music industry and expressing his frustration (semi-hate) with rappers who take shortcuts. It’s not one of my faves, but a decent record.

What Is This – MJG questions (minus the question mark in the song title) what’s real and what’s fake in the ever-changing rap game, and he gets off some of his best bars of the night in the process: “Who would’ve thought that in the midnight hour I could exercise a pen? Bring the life to sound effects, feel the thunder and the wind, in sets of ten, I lift ya mind, strengthen up your weakened cells, generate your inner spirit, leave ya with some shit to tell, but still it seems all my dreams come with fuckin’ side effects, I thought I seen the worst, but I seen a damn thang yet.” The guest singer (that the liner notes don’t credit) sounds a lot like CeeLo Green, who would have sounded amazing rapping and singing alongside MJG over the darkly mysterious synth sounds. But even without CG, this is one of my favorite records on NMG.

Questions (Skit) – A bunch of reporters ask MJG a series of questions to which he simply replies, “No comment.” This is followed by the sound of cheers and flashing cameras, as a pensive guitar rumbles on in the background for forty-five seconds.

Don’t Hold Back – The pensive guitar riff from the previous interlude lives on for this track, accompanied by drums. The music’s serious tone had me believing MJG was going to touch on something with substance, but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s blatantly honest to the objects of his erection that he simply wants to “dip in the sauce” (a bedroom marathon with a 6’3” Amazon sounds sexy as hell). He and the fellas that sing the hook, encourage the ladies to give it their all if they do take him up on his pussy proposition. Now that’s some smooth pimp shit.

Reflections – Over somber backing music, MJG (at least I think it’s MJG) shares a spoken word poem about time. It’s not completely horrible, but he’s no Langston Hughes either.

Hard But Fair – This record was hard to get into and fairly forgettable.

Middle Of The Night – MJG invites 8Ball back for the third and final time on NMG to spit rapid-fire player poetry over spaciously smooth, pimped-out instrumentation. This is easily my favorite record on the album.

When I saw that No More Glory was next on my review spreadsheet, I was a little apprehensive. As I mentioned earlier, I’m planning on digging into 8Ball & MJG’s first four albums after I finish reviewing the 1997 portion of my collection. My concern was whether a disappointing MJG solo album would dampen my anticipation for the group’s catalog. Thankfully, the album wasn’t a disappointment, so my anticipation is still intact.

On the album’s title track, MJG says he “got his knowledge from street college,” and based on his content throughout NMG, I believe him. On a few tracks (“Keep Your Mind,” “What Is This,” the title track, and the spoken-word piece, “Reflections”), our host displays substance and depth, but his righteous moments are severely overshadowed by ratchetness. MJG spends most of the album focused on his haters, hoes, and hood politics, and while the subject matter is far from original, his charisma, southern drawl, and understatedly slick way with words keep a chunk of his material sounding interesting. And for those moments when his ratchet gets redundant, the Mo-Suave-A Production Team will keep you entertained with the perfect blend of pristine synthesized music and live instrumentation with undeniably funky bass guitars as the strong foundation on which it all rests.

On No More Glory, MJG proves to be a sufficient solo artist. But based on the three album cuts that feature 8Ball (“Shine And Recline,” “Black Mac Is Back,” and my personal favorite, “Middle Of The Night”), MJG sounds much better when paired with his partner in pimpin’. With that said, NMG isn’t a great album, but there’s enough good music on it to satisfy my hip-hop appetite.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic

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Timbaland And Magoo – Welcome To Our World (November 11, 1997)

Posted on 04/28/2026 by deedub77

By 1997, Timbaland was already an established music producer. He’d produced records for Jodeci, Usher, 702, and had production credits on the Above The Rim and Dangerous Minds soundtracks. He produced Ginuwine’s debut album, The Bachelor, and a large chunk of Aaliyah’s (RIP) One In Million album, and might I add, both projects went double platinum. ‘97 would see him producing tracks for Snoop Dogg, Babyface, the tantalizing SWV record, “Can We” from the Booty Call Soundtrack, and the entirety of Missy Elliott’s impressive debut album, Supa Dupa Fly. To this point, we’d heard Timbaland spit a rhyme and adlib on a few of the records he produced, but he was getting ready to take his little pastime hobby much further.

Timbaland and Melvin “Magoo” Barcliff met as teenagers growing up in Virginia. The duo was in a group called S.B.I. (Surrounded By Idiots), which also included two other guys, one you may have heard of: Pharrell Williams, who I also recently discovered is Timbaland’s cousin. S.B.I. dissolved before anything materialized, and Timbaland would proceed to blow up as a producer. But once he established himself in the game, he would reunite with his homeboy, forming Timbaland and Magoo, releasing their debut album, Welcome To Our World, at the tail end of ‘97.

Naturally, Timbaland would handle the production on WTOW, which would include cameos from his Blackground crew: Missy Elliott, Aaliyah, Ginuwine, Playa, and more. The album produced three singles, received positive reviews from critics, and earned the duo a platinum plaque.

I was far removed from the secular hip-hop scene when WTOW dropped. This is my first time entering Timbaland and Magoo’s world, and I’m hoping it’s a pleasant experience.

Sadly, Magoo passed away from a heart attack on August 13, 2023. May he continue to rest in peace.

Beep Beep – Timbaland introduces himself, talks a little shit, introduces a few of his crew members, talks a little more shit, and rambles on for over four minutes about absolutely nothing. At least he left a smooth groove for the listener to enjoy along the way.

Feel It – More solo Timbo. He spits what sounds like a patchwork freestyle over the course of three verses, which he proudly lets the listener know during the last verse was done without cursing (Gold star for Timbaland!). Tim’s rhymes were pretty bad (dude actually rhymes “jam” with “jam”), but the instrumental is full of his signature mobbable VA funk, which you can try to resist, but resistance is futile.

Up Jumps Da’ Boogie – This was the lead single. Timbaland, Missy Elliott, and, for the first time tonight, Magoo come together for this wild and zany cipher session, while the lovely Aaliyah serves as their hype woman, singing the hook. Magoo kicks things off, and I couldn’t help but immediately notice his vocal tone is similar to Q-Tip’s, only more animated. The trio goes back-to-back-to-back for two rounds, all using the same stuttering cadence throughout. Their rhymes give free-spirited mixtape vibes and their chemistry is alluring (and in a rap era where a lot of rappers were acting like money grew on trees, it was nice to hear Timbo show a little modesty when he asks his homeboy not to slam his car door because “it costs too much money to get that shit fixed, I need all my money to pay my bills with”). Tim scores the entertaining affair with wacky synthetic wah-wahs, mid-tempo drum claps, and a discreet yet lively bass line that suits the threesome’s rhymes perfectly.

Clocks Strikes – This was the album’s third single. Magoo and Tim tag team the mic, and it becomes crystal clear that Timbaland rhymes better when Magoo is present. Yet Magoo easily outshines his partner, thanks to his clever metaphors, similes, punchlines, a touch of self-deprecation, and a versatile flow. Tim backs their playful banter with an irresistible, layered backdrop full of soul and funk, and the dope background harmony only enhances this musical experience.

15 After Da’ Hour – Sticking with the “time” song title theme, Tim and Magoo each share a day-in-the-life narrative, centered on fifteen minutes after each hour. Magoo fares better with the concept than Timbo (who, at one point during his verse, embarrassingly continues to rhyme “fifteen” with “fifteen”), but ultimately it’s a miscalculated idea for both parties (so much so that Timbaland even acknowledges the concept is cheesy at the end of his verse). On the bright side, if you are willing to overlook the corny concept, the electric guitar loop will keep your face scrunched up while the strong drums sneak up on you and kick you in the face.

Ms. Parker – Quick skit. “I wanna hear that new song by the boot boy and the cartoon character” is hi-larious.

Luv 2 Luv U (Remix) – Over an instrumental that sounds like it could be the father to the instrumental for Missy Elliott’s “Freak On,” Timbaland and Shaunta exchange raunchy pleasantries. Magoo chimes in but never fully commits to the freaky theme, so instead of it being a threesome, it sounds more like Magoo watching Tim and Shaunta bump uglies. Regardless, I found Timbo and Shaunta’s pornographic paragraphs (more so Shaunta’s) enticing. I also enjoyed the hard beat (no pun), but it didn’t need to go on for three additional minutes after the last verse ended.

Luv 2 Luv U – As he should have for the remix, Magoo sits the O.G. mix out and lets the two lust birds (Timbo and Shaunta) verbally tear each other’s clothes off and go at it like wild animals (by the way, “Club Clit” sounds like an amazing place to hang out). The R&B trio, Playa, resurrects the chorus from Donna Summer’s classic “Love To Love You Baby” for the hook, while groovy drum claps and sexy strings set the mood for passionate love making, or hardcore fuckin’. Pick your pleasure.

Smoke In Da’ Air – Timbo and Magoo are joined by Playa, and the boys have nothing but women and weed on their minds. Or as Magoo so eloquently puts it: “You know we got plenty smokin’, hopin’ for pussy pokin’.” This is easily one of the least entertaining moments on WTOW.

Intro Buddha – The Boodah Brothers (Big B and DJ Law) were legendary hip-hop radio hosts on 103 JAMZ in Virginia back in the nineties and early 2000s. Sadly, DJ Law passed away in 2010, and Big B passed away in January of 2026. Timbaland gives them their flowers while they could still smell them on this track, allowing them to share a few words before he gets off a horrible verse over a darkish backdrop that barely registers (Tim says “My rhyme style” three times in a fourteen-bar verse, and what the hell does “My pockets get fatter than Jacob on twenty ladders” mean?).

Peepin’ My Style – Yet another Timbo solo joint. The backdrop is beyond tough, but the bars get pretty horrendous over the course of his three verses. Or as Timbaland felt the need to point out at the end of the song: “two verses, the first verse repeats itself.”

Writtin’ Rhymes – I believe they meant to title the song, “Writin’ Rhymes,” but whatever. Tim sits this one out (well, not really, he does add ad-libs), leaving Magoo to share the mic with Troy Marshall, whose rap voice and cadence sound eerily similar to Mos Def’s, though his bars aren’t nearly as potent. Both rappers sound decent rhyming over the pulsating drums and callous guitar loop. I could have done without the corny Mary J. Blige/K-Ci Hailey inspired hook, but it’s still a solid track.

Deep In Your Memory – This is Magoo’s lone dolo record on WTOW. He sounds hungry, locked in, and agile (at least for the first two verses, I don’t know what the hell he was doing on the last one), giving his best performance of the night over Tim’s bouncy backdrop with a marvelous guitar loop as its heart and soul. This is definitely one of my favorite records on the album.

Clock Strikes (Remix) – Like Busta Rhymes would do for the “Turn It Up (Remix),” Timbo builds this instrumental around the Knight Rider theme song. Tim sandwiches a verse in between two Magoo sixteens, which wasn’t necessary, as Magoo sounds great all by himself, dropping hysterical pop culture one-liners and witty punchlines (I literally lol every time I hear Magoo’s Coming To America reference: “His mama named him Clay, Imma call him Clay”). From the rhymes to the goofy hook, the duo sounds like they’re having a ball on this track, and the feeling is contagious.

Sex Beat (Interlude) – Timbaland tries to seduce the ladies with a few words (offering to lick toes while pulling off tight Girbauds) over some “take off your drawers” music. I wasn’t the target demo for this sexy interlude, but I dug the strings that come in during the mid-way point.

Man Undercover – Aaliyah takes the spotlight as she sings praises to her undercover man, which is not the same thing as a down-low brother. Missy helps with background vocals, and Timbaland spits a flossy throwaway verse that completely contradicts the low-key kind of brother Aaliyah describes during the song. All in all, this was a breezy R&B-flavored bop.

Joy – Sticking with the R&B mood, Ginuwine and Playa take center stage to croon the objects of their erections out of their panties. Again, Magoo gets overlooked for the rap verse, and Static Major (RIP) takes the opportunity to spit a generic, beyond pedestrian rhyme. Ginuwine & Company’s lyrics are full of cliche fluff, but their harmonic hook, combined with Tim’s airy, synthesized soul, sounds like a piece of audio heaven.

Up Jumps Da’ Boogie (Remix) – Magoo, Tim, and Missy join forces again to close out WTOW with a remix of the lead single. Timbaland’s groovable backdrop comes with new bars from the trio as well (Magoo arbitrarily dissed Madonna on the O.G. track, and Cindy Crawford catches a random shot on the remix). I like the instrumental on the remix better than the original, but the bars and chemistry were stronger the first go round.

Let me start off by saying, Timbaland is a bold-faced liar. During the intro (“Beep Beep”), he claims this is “Magoo’s album featuring me, Timbaland.” But a few good listens through, and it’s clear that this is a Timbaland album with guest features from his friends, which includes Magoo. Of the album’s first eleven tracks, Magoo only appears four times, and on two of the four records (“Up Jump Da’ Boogie” and “Luv To Luv U (Remix)”), he’s forced to share the mic, not only with Timbaland, but with another guest (Missy and Shaunta, respectively). Out of the album’s eighteen tracks, Magoo has one solo record. Meanwhile, Timbaland gets a handful of dolo joints and appears on every track. But whether it’s billed as a Timbaland & Magoo album, a Timbaland album, or a Timbo and friends album, it’s a thoroughly entertaining listen.

Timbaland will never be put in the discussion for best producer on the mic, and I’m sure he’s fully aware of that. Yet, on WTOW, he delivers his embarrassingly bad-to-mediocre-at-best rhymes with a playful confidence that makes them easier to digest. On the flip side, Magoo, who may sound like a Looney Tunes character, can really rap. His lighthearted rhymes are full of wit and comic relief, and his diverse palette of flows, unique voice, and charisma will hold you attentive for his lyrical hijinks.

What Timbaland lacks in lyrical ability, he more than makes up for with his beats. His secret weapon is his drums, which are almost always the dominant element in his production and often come with an exotic drum breakdown. Well-played synth sounds and dope funk and soul loops play a secondary role, but they all come together to form some pretty fire production from the VA representative (random thought: Pharrell vs Timbaland would make for an intriguing Virginia Verzuz).

The world Timbaland and Magoo live in on their debut album is free of gangsta babble, thug posturing, and material worship. Political agendas and overtly conscious messaging don’t reside there either. Only party themes, carefree fun content with small dosages of misogyny and objectification exist on their planet, all scored by gobs of Timbaland beauties and bangers. Welcome To Our World is a refreshing and impressive debut from the boot boy and cartoon character, and I’m thankful I finally got an invite.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic

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Mic Geronimo – Vendetta (November 4, 1997)

Posted on 04/14/2026 by deedub77

The last time we checked in with Mic Geronimo here at TimeIsIllmatic was back in November of 1995 with the release of his debut album, The Natural. I was excited to finally review the album, thanks largely to his majestical single, “Masta I.C.” But my excitement quickly turned to disappointment as the album fell short of my high expectations. I must not have been alone in my assessment of the project, as its sales numbers also reflected my sentiment. Regardless, his label, TVT, would give him one more chance to redeem himself. He would release his sophomore effort, Vendetta, in November of 1997.

Vendetta would feature production from Pete Rock, Buckwild, Puffy and his Hitmen, Irv Gotti (RIP), Havoc, K-Def, and a few others. It would also include cameos from some pretty prominent names we’ll discuss a little later. But even with all of its star-studded support, Vendetta wouldn’t gain much commercial traction and received average reviews from the critics, including a 3.5 Mic Rating from The Source.

This is my first go-round with Vendetta. Hopefully, it’s a better listen than The Natural. The half-reality, half-animation album cover artwork looks pretty dope, so things are off to a good start.

Nothin’ Move But The Money – Without any familiarity with this album, the moment I heard Puffy’s ad-libs and the shiny-suit instrumental (credited to Diddy and one of the Bad Boy Hitmen, Prestige Vanderpool), I knew this was the album’s lead single, which was later confirmed with a little Googling. Mic Geronimo sounds like he’s auditioning to join Bad Boy with his flossy, slightly designer bars that don’t sound authentic at all rolling off of his tongue. To add insult to injury, Kelly Price (who always sounds great and apparently was Bad Boy’s go-to for harmony hooks at the time) sings a struggle chorus that kind of contradicts our host’s rhymes.

Vendetta – The title track finds Mic playing peeved, pissed off, and vengeful, as he issues violent threats to his adversaries. Unfortunately, he doesn’t sound the least bit convincing, but the darkly tense piano chords that the instrumental is built around (courtesy of The Legendary Traxster) sound incredible.

Survival – Havoc (from Mobb Deep) creates a gravely gully instrumental that our host uses to declare that he’ll never settle for just surviving, despite the song title. Once again, Mic’s rhymes ring hollow, wasting yet another really dope musical bed. I wish Havoc had sprinkled those amazing harp chords that come in at the end of the song throughout the rest of the track.

Life N Lessons – Mic plays the role of a common street thug having a conversation with God over the trife life he led. Unfortunately, the conversation is taking place after he was shot and murdered. The concept was cool, and Mic’s execution of it was decent. Irv Gotti’s backing music was solid, but something more dramatic or cinematic-sounding would have given his bars and storyline more life.

For Tha Family – Our host uses this one to pledge his allegiance and loyalty to his crew. Mic’s shoutout of Marley Marl during the track’s opening ad-libs led me to believe he produced it, but the liner notes credit the backdrop to Marley’s protege, K-Def. I love the clouded melody in the instrumental. The sample, along with the cowbell, sounds like something Premo would use.

Street Life – Mic does some self-reflecting, as he searches for answers to why he continues to play in the dangerous streets, knowing the potential consequences of his actions: “The evidence of circumstance, but still this black-hearted lifestyle I romance.” Monifah lends her vocals to the hook (a reinterpretation of the chorus from The Crusaders’ “Street Life” record), endorsing her host’s risky lifestyle. Chris Large flips an Atlantic Starr loop to create a sleek, sophisticated backdrop that clashes with Mic’s content, but it’s still tantalizing to the ear.

Be Like Mic – The song title and hook are a play off of Michael Jordan’s catchy Gatorade commercial jingle and part of the hook of R. Kelly’s mega hit, “I Believe I Can Fly” from the Space Jam Soundtrack, a movie that MJ also starred in. This track is the flossiest Mr. Geronimo has sounded on Vendetta so far, as he paints himself as a successful rapper living a life of luxury that other rappers wish they had. Though the hook is catchy, I’m not buying what Mic’s selling. Chris “Ju Ju” Whitney and P & Time’s clean, layered instrumentation translates to a tough groove that a more talented emcee would have devoured.

Unstoppable – Pete Rock was on absolute fire in ‘97. He had just laced Rakim with heat for The 18th Letter, including the brilliant “The Saga Begins,” and he comes right back to bless Mic Geronimo with this grumpy banger. PR’s music must have lit a fire in Mic as he sounds hungrier than he has on the previous cuts on the album. Or maybe the music is so fire it makes Mic sound better. Either way, this was tough.

Single Life – Irv Gotti jacks Cameo’s record of the same name, and Mic uses two verses to boast about his life as a manwhore. His buddy, Jay-Z, drops by, adding a lighthearted third verse with a heaping helping of infidelity and womanizing, and Carl Thomas gets his Larry Blackmon on during the hook, bridge, and ad-libs. It’s a super uncreative and forgettable record, but at least Mic can tell his grandchildren that Jay-Z made cameo appearances on his first two albums.

Things Ain’t What They Used To Be – Mic channels Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” (musically and lyrically) as he lists the societal ills in the hood and dwells on how bad things have gotten in these perilous times (“Crack babies retardedly born” sounds crazy, no pun). The Marvin vocal loop on the hook sounds sloppy due to the background music in the loop clashing with the rest of the music in the track. Still, the somber Prince Kasan/Royal Flush-produced instrumental was decent, and Mic’s effort on the mic was commendable.

How You Been? – The opening chords and Mic saying “Came to talk to you for a minute” had me thinking our host was about to get in his smooth Casanova bag and spit a love rap over the instrumental to Jodeci’s “Come & Talk To Me.” The music eventually transitions into a laidback, jazzy groove (conducted by Buckwild) that Mic uses to speak to the spirit of his deceased mother. Like contestants singing gospel songs on Amateur Night At The Apollo, you can’t say anything negative about a mama dedication record. And thank you, Mic, for putting a question mark at the end of the song title.

Usual Suspects – Mic Geronimo concludes Vendetta with a “soon-to-be crew of all-stars” cipher session: DMX (RIP), Ja Rule, Jadakiss, Styles P, and Tragedy Khadafi (aka Intelligent Hoodlum) join Mic on this thugged-out affair. I’ve never been a huge fan of DMX or Ja’s music, and their verses on this track didn’t move the needle. Jada and Styles’ back-and-forth was cool, and Tragedy and Mic’s verses were passable, but none of the six rappers spat anything memorable. Even Prestige Vanderpool’s pseudo-gutter backing music was average at best.

According to Merriam-Webster, a vendetta is a blood feud; an often prolonged series of retaliatory, vengeful, or hostile acts or exchange of such acts. I’m not sure if Mic Geronimo’s Vendetta was aimed at a certain rapper, record label, critics, or fans. But whoever the target was, I’m certain he didn’t get the vengeance he was seeking with this album.

Some of the same issues I had with Mic’s performance on The Natural persist on Vendetta. Technically, Mic’s a decent rapper. He sounds competent on the mic, rhyming with efficient verbiage and a touch of the same Queens swagger some of his fellow borough mates had. Yet, unlike Nas or Prodigy, his rhymes rarely translate to fire bars. His delivery almost feels mechanical, rendering his rhymes spiritless and soulless, causing me to lose focus and drift off, thinking about the body wash I need to pick up on my next Walmart run. On the bright side, the production on Vendetta is much more consistent than his rookie campaign. The album’s handful of producers lace Mic with large amounts of heat, but not enough heat to make his rhymes reach a temperature beyond lukewarm.

On “Survival,” Mic raps, “My fascination with this art of words, turned to art of war, put a little more into it, try to blow for sure.” I interpret that bar as Mic acknowledging that his passion (fascination) for rap changed from just being a passion to an obsessive battle (war) to become successful in the rap game. Earlier on the same song, he raps about “seeing the fire inside of his eyes,” which is where I believe the problem lies. On Vendetta, you never hear that fire in Mic. Maybe that fire was smothered by his obsession with success, and time has shown us how that battle fared for our friend.

-Deedub
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Rakim – The 18th Letter (November 4, 1997)

Posted on 04/07/2026 by deedub77

Between 1987 and 1992, Eric B & Rakim released four celebrated albums (two of which earned gold plaques, and one would reach platinum status), which included numerous hit records and several memorable quotables from Rakim. The duo’s work would cement their legacy as hip-hop legends, and Rakim’s otherworldly, ahead-of-his-time rhyming ability would earn him the title of god emcee. But like all good things, their run would come to an end. In 1992, the duo’s business disputes, contract disagreements, and legal friction would send them their separate ways. The contractual disagreements would keep Rakim musically silenced for five more years. Eventually, he’d get his release from MCA, sign with Universal, and release his debut solo album, aptly titled The 18th Letter.

The 18th Letter would feature production from some of hip-hop’s cream of the crop producers (DJ Premier, Pete Rock, and DJ Clark Kent (RIP)) and contributions from a few other formidable and up-and-coming names that we’ll discuss a little later. And fittingly, The Microphone Soloist doesn’t share his mic with any guest rappers on the album. The 18th Letter was showered with critical acclaim from the streets and critics. It would climb to number four on the Billboard Top 200 (number one on the Top R&B/Hip-Hop Album Charts), and earn the god emcee another gold plaque.

I haven’t listened to The 18th Letter from beginning to end in over a decade, but I’m definitely looking forward to re-experiencing the official debut solo album from the god emcee, and I’ll take a god over a goat any day of the week.

Intro – The album opens with an interviewer asking Rakim, “What he’s giving them (meaning the fans) back?” Then, after stumbling around with a few unnecessary words, a couple of “ums,” and a “nahmean,” he replies with “skills.” The next track immediately begins.

The 18th Letter (Always And Forever) – Father Shaheed (one-third of Poor Righteous Teachers) serves up a strong, poker-faced instrumental, sprinkled with a touch of soul, courtesy of a Lyn Collins vocal snippet. Ra takes his time on the title track, letting off one verse that comes with more lyrical potency than some rappers’ entire album (“Some of my rap patterns, still surround Saturn” is ridiculously sick!). I didn’t really care for the song’s ending refrain, but that minor mishap didn’t dim the brilliance of this opening track at all.

Skit – Another clip from the interview that the album started with. FYI, every “Skit” on The 18th Letter is a clip from that same interview.

It’s Been A Long Time – This record marks the first time Rakim would rhyme over a DJ Premier beat, and it doesn’t disappoint. Premo places slower-paced drums underneath a hypnotic melody, created by a dope horn and string loop. Rakim, with his steadfast cool demeanor, leaves planet Earth for large portions of this record. Here are a few samples of his alien work: “They say I changed the times with the rhymes that I thought of, so I made some more to put the new world in order, with mathematics, put your status above the average, and help you rappers, make paragraphs with graphics.” Or, “Cursed kids like the Pyramids when they found the style, first to ever let a rhyme flow down The Nile.” This record is a masterpiece that never gets old.

Remember That – If you read this blog regularly, you know one of my pet peeves is a song title that poses a question without a question mark. So, naturally, seeing this one left my pet peeved. This track finds The R looking back at yesteryear as he recalls his fledgling emcee days and the party scene in New York “before they turned hip-hop to rap.” DJ Clark Kent scores Ra’s recollections with a familiar but always pleasantly welcoming flip of Pleasure’s “Thoughts of Old Flames.” This record is one of my personal favorites on The 18th Letter.

The Saga Begins – Pete Rock gets his first of two production credits on the album. He chefs up a somberly cinematic instrumental laced with subtle groans, apocalyptic vibes, and occasional sprinkles of musical meteor showers. Rakim, aka the Paragraphologist/Narrating Novelist, blesses the track nicely, but his performance plays a supporting role to PR’s brilliant backdrop.

Skit – Another interview clip that sort of sets up the next track.

Guess Who’s Back – Once again, our host forgets to add a question mark to the end of the song title. Clark Kent rolls out the red carpet for the return of the god emcee via dramatic horn stabs and chunky drums, as a composed Rakim effortlessly dismantles the beat. Hearing Rakim use “jiggy” during the hook was cringeworthy, but this is still a dope record.

Stay A While – Dating back to his time with Eric B, Rakim has spit a rhyme or two for the ladies (i.e., the classic, “Mahogany” and the slept on “What’s On Your Mind”). He carries on the tradition for this track as he searches for his “world wonder” who’s “on a steady path like Betty Shabazz.” Clark Kent loops up the bass line from Loose Ends’ song of almost the same song title (“Stay A Little While, Child”) while Nneka Nneka blesses the track with her strong vocals, reinterpreting some of Loose Ends’ lyrics for the hook. I didn’t care for this record back in the day, mainly because Kent’s clubbish instrumental felt fabricated with crossover ambitions. I still think that was the intent, but today, hearing Ra’s polished, smooth, and relentless rhymes ride the beat makes it hard to resist the groove that it is.

New York (Ya Out There) – This is Rakim’s ghetto ode to New York City. He uses three verses to list the attributes that make NYC the unique city that it is (although some of the things he lists, like enjoying extra wet sex, aren’t necessarily exclusive to NYC), and cleverly uses the same bar-ending rhyme pattern throughout each verse (I believe this is also the only song on The 18th Letter that Rakim curses on). Premo gets his second and final production credit of the night, scoring Rakim’s Big Apple dedication with a dusty, bare-boned bop that isn’t one of Premo’s best works, but still decent.

Show Me Love – Rakim gets his poetical Billy D. Williams on, using his vast vocabulary to pull a thick-hipped modern-day Nefertiti, who comes equipped with colorful curves and intellect that swerves. Ra’s game is so sick, he even throws science and mathematics into the equation to get the panties (he also has to be the only rapper to ever use the word “odiferous” in a rhyme, though I wouldn’t be surprised to discover Canibus used it at some point in his catalog). Nick Wiz (whose name I first became familiar with for his work on the debut album for the white rapper who felt he was down with the culture enough to use “nigga” in his rhymes, Miilkbone) is credited for the grown and sultry bop. I didn’t care for Robyn Small’s half-baked hook, but the vivaciously haunting female vocal loop adds a level of elegance to Mr. Wiz’s dusty drums, and I enjoyed the contrast.

Skit – Another interview clip.

The Mystery (Who Is God?) – Rakim gives an intricate dissertation about who God is, formulated through Supreme Mathematics. I’m sure Five Percenters love his content on this record. Personally, I found it boring as shit. I dug the mysterious vibes in the Naughty Shorts/Bill Blass-produced instrumental, though. I was also pleased to see the god use proper punctuation at the end of the question asked in the song title. Gold star for The R!

When I’m Flowin – Rakim transforms more of his organic thoughts into aerodynamic flows over Pete Rock’s drunken piano loop-laden production. Ra’s hook was trash, but the rest of the track was solid.

It’s Been A Long Time (Suave House Mix) – Mo Suave-A Productions gives the original version a complete makeover. It sounds more West Coastish than Memphis, but the synthy groove is fire, regardless. If this is the kind of production I have to look forward to for the 8Ball & MJG catalog, boy, am I in for a treat.

Guess Who’s Back (Alternate Mix) – The instrumental has a few minor tweaks (a few less dramatic horn stabs and a faint wah-wah chord that adds no nutritious value to the track), but it’s built on the same chassis as the original mix. Nothing to see here, folks.

Outro – And Ra brings the album to a close with one last interview clip.

On “It’s Been A Long Time,” Rakim tongue-in-cheekily says, “Nobody’s been this long-awaited since Jesus.” The world is still waiting for the son of God’s return, but thank God, the god emcee’s technical difficulties were officially over with the release of The 18th Letter.

During Rakim’s five-year hiatus, hip-hop’s landscape had changed drastically. The James Brown sample-heavy, stripped-down sound that he and his peers shaped their music around in the eighties had evolved into the usage of more sophisticated loops and later into more polished synth sounds. A large portion of rappers’ content had shifted from conscious messaging and innocent boasting to thug and drug dealer themes. On The 18th Letter, the raw sonics of Ra’s yesteryear are updated with (now) vintage East Coast boom-bap and a few clean and synthesized production moments. On the mic, Rakim sounds unfazed by the hardcore thugged-out trends of the era. He maintains his stoic disposition, delivering an album full of “paragraphs with graphics” with his high-tech dialect. His rhymes and flow were always ahead of their time, but his absence gave his contemporaries time to catch up. On The 18th Letter, he may not sound as advanced as he did in the past, but his decade-long head start keeps his pen up to pace and potent as he goes toe-to-toe with great production from some of the greatest hip-hop producers to ever do it.

Throughout the Eric B & Rakim catalog, Ra relied heavily on Eric B’s cuts to fill in the spaces between his verses. Some of those empty spaces on The 18th Letter are filled with vocal scratches and a few sung refrains, but on a handful of tracks, Rakim DIYs his hooks, unveiling the god emcee’s one weakness. None of his choruses are catchy, and most of them sound forced and overly wordy (especially on “The Mystery,” where the god emcee’s hook sounds godawful).

Despite Rakim’s poorly written hooks, unnecessary interludes, and a few pedestrian tracks, The 18th Letter is a more than solid body of work. The god emcee sounds reinvigorated with his newfound freedom, as he leaves a New Testament for past, present, and future generations to marvel at.

-Deedub
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Domino – The World Of Dominology (November 4, 1997)

Posted on 03/31/2026 by deedub77

My introduction to Domino came from his blue contribution to the innovative 1993 Bloods & Crips compilation album, Bangin’ On Wax (he spat the first bars on the album’s self-titled lead single, and he appeared on one of my personal favorites from that album, “Mackin’ To Slob Bitches”). His bangin’ of bloods would eventually lead to him getting a solo deal with Outburst (who had distribution through Def Jam), where he’d strike gold, figuratively and literally, with his self-titled debut album, thanks largely to his hit record, “Getto Jam.” From there, he’d release Physical Funk in 1996, which wasn’t nearly as successful as his debut, and would end his short-lived run at Outburst. That brings us to 1997, the year Domino would drop two albums, two months apart, with nearly identical album titles and track lists.

Dominology was released in September of ‘97, and The World of Dominology in November. Dominology was released under the Domino Entertainment/Thug Records imprint and The World Of Dominology via Caw Records/Cyber Records. The only difference in the track listing for the albums is the addition of one extra track to The World Of Dominology.

Dominology was mid at best, and a drop in quality compared to Domino’s first two albums. Unless The World Of Dominology is filled with a bunch of fire remixes and the additional track is bananas, I don’t have high hopes going into this review. At least the album cover artwork is less cheesy than Dominology’s.

Dominology – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Shake It Up – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

On Them Thangz – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Do You Like It – The question mark omitted in the song title is the artist’s error, not mine. This is the lone song on The World Of Dominology that wasn’t included on Dominology. It was originally released on the Blankman Soundtrack back in ‘94, but for some odd reason, Domino decided to tack it on to this project (and remove “Baby” from the end of the original song title). Our host creates a cheap-sounding, mildly funky, West Coast backdrop with some pretty nice chord progressions that lead into the hook and keep the music interesting. Lyrically, Domino seeks to get the party started and keep feet and asses on the dance floor, as he transitions back and forth between rapping and harmonizing. He also makes yet another call back to “Sweet Potatoe Pie,” which at this point is beyond corny and annoying as shit.

Keep Goin’ – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Get Yo Money – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Come On Over – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Sowed Up Like Clothes – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Daddy Mack – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Booty Call – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Just Clownin’ – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

Everybody Wanna Be A G – See the Dominology review for my thoughts on this track.

At the end of my Dominology review, I said that the album wasn’t a complete waste of wax, as there were four or five tracks on the album that I enjoyed. Ironically, The World Of Dominology is a complete waste of wax.

As I expected, The World Of Dominology isn’t remixes of tracks from Dominology, and the additional track on the album is a three-year-old record that’s mid at best. The only reason I can imagine Domino would re-release virtually the same album under a different label just two months after the original release was in hopes that the new label would get behind it and give it a better promotional boost. Whatever the motive was, the “revamped” project is still mediocre, and like wisdom teeth, the appendix, and male nipples, its existence is in vain.

Wow, I actually completed an album review in less than seven hundred words.

-Deedub
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Jay-Z – In My Lifetime, Vol. 1 (November 4, 1997)

Posted on 03/24/2026 by deedub77

Revisionist history might lead you to believe that Reasonable Doubt was an immediate breakout smash when it was released in 1996, but it wasn’t (and ironically, it’s about to celebrate its thirtieth anniversary in June). Unlike Illmatic, which came with great anticipation, Reasonable Doubt’s release was quiet, and it slowly built momentum over time. But eventually, it would widely be considered the Brooklyn legend’s magna opus (I concur, but would be willing to hear your argument if you think The Blueprint is better). In ‘97, Shawn “Jay-Z” Carter would look to build on the success of his debut with In My Lifetime, Vol.1.

In My Lifetime was the first release in what would become a long-standing joint venture between Roc-A-Fella Records and Def Jam (they would together bring the world the next nine Jay-Z albums). Jay would bring back some of the names that helped shape Reasonable: DJ Premier, Ski, and his mentor, Jaz-O, would all produce tracks for the album. He would also call on Teddy Riley and Trackmasters for beats, but Puffy’s Bad Boy in-house production team, The Hitmen, would handle the bulk of the production duties. In My Lifetime would follow a similar commercial trajectory as Reasonable, earning a gold plaque three months after its release, and taking over a year to reach platinum certification.

Would Jay-Z fall victim to the sophomore jinx like some of the other greats, or would he build on the momentum of his debut? Let’s jump into it.

Intro/A Million And One Questions/Rhyme No More – Pain In Da Ass, who opened Reasonable Doubt, returns to open In My Lifetime with a few words. Then our ears are pleasantly greeted by DJ Premier’s chop-and-flip of a sexy jazz piano loop set over boom-bap drums, as our host shares some of the questions he regularly gets asked in the street. After one verse, Premo uses his vintage scratches and a beautiful string bridge to transition to a hardy musical canvas built on a rugged guitar loop. Jay uses the second beat to talk a little shit and shares some of the highlights of his crime resume along the way. Both of Jay’s verses were decent, but Premo’s production is by far the star of this opening track.

The City Is Mine – This was the album’s second single. Teddy Riley is credited for the jacking of Glenn Frey’s “You Belong To The City” (his Blackstreet bredrin reinterpret and sing the chorus from the eighties pop hit for the hook) and mixing it with a loop of the bass line from The Jones Girls’ “You Gonna Make Me Love Somebody Else” (random side note: a young Chad Hugo plays the saxophone on this track). The first verse finds Jay conversing with Biggie’s spirit, mourning his loss and letting him know his throne as King of New York is in good hands: “Don’t worry about Brooklyn, I continue to flame, therefore a world with amnesia won’t forget your name, you held it down long enough, let me take those reigns.” He spends the last two verses letting all would-be contenders know that the imaginary crown and throne are now his, which I’m sure rubbed some of his NYC counterparts the wrong way. I’m torn on this one. Jay’s first verse is compelling, and the rest of his bars were at least decent, but the poppy feel of the “You Belong To The City” interpolation borders on cheesy and fully fabricated.

I Know What Girls Like – Lil’ Kim joins Jay on this high-priced trickin’/gold diggin’ duet. Diddy and Amen-Ra recycle the stripped-down beat from Boogie Boys’ “A Fly Girl” and shoot lasers at it in between the verses. I like the retro-futuristic fusion in the music, but I absolutely hate Jay and Kim’s uninspired exchange, and the hook is the audio equivalent of nails scraping a chalkboard.

Imaginary Player – Several attributes make Jay-Z one of the greatest to ever do it. One of them is his mastery of the boast, as he has spat some of hip-hop’s best braggadocious bars. Another is his ability to, every now and then, slow things way down and step into his conversational flow, making the listener feel as if it’s just the two of you in the room. Both skill sets are on display for this one. Daven “Prestige” Vanderpool loops up Rene & Angela’s “Imaginary Playmates” to create the grown and sexy groove that Jay-Z effortlessly clowns, shits on, and reprimands these fictitious contestants. I’ve heard some speculate that Jay’s bars on this track were aimed at Mase or LL Cool J. I don’t know if that’s true, but either way, his flossy rhymes sound great.

Streets Is Watching – In his memoir Decoded, Jay-Z shares a story of Biggie being blown away by this song when he let him hear it. Hopefully, he played him the uncensored version, because all the bleeps in the album cut distract from Jay’s three-verse dissertation on street politics. Ski’s beat is straight cinematic fire, though.

Friend Or Foe ’98 – The enterprising out-of-town street pharmacist that Jay told to “never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever come around here no mo'” on Reasonable has made a return, and our host is about to put an end to his foe’s expansion attempt, permanently. Premo replaces the wacky horns from the first go-round with a brolic backdrop that breathes more life into Jay-Z’s witty, gangster theatrics delivered in this one-verse wonder. I love both parts of this two-piece series, and I wouldn’t have minded “Friend Or Foe” becoming what the “Jane” series was to EPMD’s catalog.

Lucky Me – This record might as well have been titled “Woe is Jay-Z.” He spends the entire track self-loathing about the stress of being a rap star, while Karen Anderson somberly sings the hook, co-signing our host’s self-piety. Jay’s bars didn’t make me feel sorry for him, but I did mildly enjoy the melancholic melody in the Stevie J and Buckwild concocted production.

(Always Be My) Sunshine – This was the lead single from In My Lifetime. Prestige Vanderpool recycles the electronic sounds of The Fearless Four’s “Rockin’ It” for the backdrop as Jay courts Foxy Brown, and she willingly becomes his ride or die chick. I didn’t care much for the duo’s run-of-the-mill hood love bars, and Babyface is an absolute legend, but hearing him sing/butcher the chorus to Alexander O’Neal’s “Sunshine” on the hook felt forced and sounded atrocious. This ends with a skit of a disgruntled chick leaving a voicemail, cussing Jay-Z out for apparently kicking her and her friends out of his truck.

Who You Wit II – This song was originally released on the Sprung Soundtrack earlier in ‘97 (this mix is titled Part Two, as it has a completely different third verse than the original). Ironically, Ski’s instrumental feels like skiing in the Swiss Alps and sipping on a cup of Kopi Luwak to relax afterwards (I’ve never done either, so my imagination could be way off). Jay uses the luxurious track to spew loads of misogyny, and it all sounds entertaining as hell. This track ends with another skit: the angry chick from the previous skit calls back to leave another voicemail, this time apologizing to Jay-Z for cussing him out on the first one.

Face Off – Sauce Money, who spat the opening verse on Reasonable’s epic “Bring On It,” faces off with Jay-Z on this track as the two hot potato the mic one some updated, toxic masculinity Cold Crush Brothers shit. Trackmasters get their sole production credit of the evening, and it’s a dandy. They abandon the commercially polished production sound they were feasting on during this era, looping up a Soul Makossa record and adding some J.B. horns to create a raw canvas for the duo’s spirited back-and-forth.

Real Niggaz – Jay-Z takes a trip out West and links up with the Oakland legend, Too Short, for this one. This almost feels like Jay-Z’s attempt at making atonement for the East Coast/ West Coast beef, punctuated by his last bar on the record: “If you ballin’, keep ballin’, if you jealous, stop, I want Biggie to rest in peace, as well as Pac.” It was cool hearing these two connect, but I absolutely love Anthony Dent’s dark, emotional groove.

Rap Game/Crack Game – As the title suggests, Jay compares the similarities of the rap game and the crack game over Jaz-O’s organic boom-bap and Nas and OutKast samples for the hook. Dope. No pun intended.

Where I’m From – Jay-Z paints a picture of Brooklyn from his hood perspective over the murky and thumpin’ Amen-Ra/D-Dot production. This was tough.

You Must Love Me – Jay-Z ends In My Lifetime on a super somber note. Nashiem Myrick provides a brilliant bluesy backdrop that Mr. Carter uses to share three scenarios of his loved ones showing him unconditional love despite his ill behavior toward them: i.e., selling crack to his mother (though he’s said that the reference to “the creation of which you came” was a metaphor for all the black mothers he sold crack to, not necessarily his own momma), shooting his biological brother, and having his girlfriend risk her freedom by transporting work out of state for him. Jay-Z’s vulnerable introspection is riveting, and the soulful music and vocal sample, along with Kelly Price’s “take ‘em to church” performance on the hook, make this one of Jay’s top ten (or at least twenty) records in my book. It’s easily the crown jewel of In My Lifetime.

Side note: The UK/Europe version of In My Lifetime has two bonus tracks: “Wishing On A Star,” the “D’Influence Remix,” and the “Trackmasters Remix.” I have the US pressing, so I won’t discuss them too much, but I did check out both mixes on YouTube (which rework Rose Royce’s classic seventies ballad of the same name). The solemn D’Influence instrumental sounds much more suited for Jay’s sober stroll down memory lane than the disruptive drums in the Trackmasters’ interpretation.

In My Lifetime opens with Pain In Da Ass sharing a few words on Jay-Z’s behalf, and just before he ends his soliloquy, he says: “I ain’t no rapper, I’m a hustler. It just so happens I know how to rap.” Throughout his illustrious rap career, Jay-Z has reminded us he was born with a hustler spirit (“nigga, period”) and that the rap game is just one of his many hustles. Reasonable Doubt felt less like a music hustle and more like the artistic audio journal of a drug dealer. On In My Lifetime, Jay-Z sounds more like a “hustler who just so happens to know how to rap.”

Jay-Z has said that during this stage of his career, he was looking for the perfect formula for making street records with pop appeal, much like Biggie did. This becomes blatantly obvious on records like “The City Is Mine,” “I Know What Girls Like,” “Lucky Me,” and “Sunshine.” Like most hip-hop songs made with pop intentions, you can feel the manufactured sound in these records, and the inauthenticity cheapens them. Thankfully, these moments are the exception rather than the rule.

Jay-Z is one of the greatest to ever pick up a mic. He’s a witty wordsmith with a unique ability to put words together and make them dance in your ear. He’s also a master of the double entendre and can boast and floss with the best of them. And while the casual fan may know him for his swaggy, superficial rhymes, when he chooses to spit substance, he’s just as potent. Jay-Z is an alien, but he rarely leaves Planet Earth on In My Lifetime. It’s not that his rapping sounds bad. In fact, the majority of his bars are solid, probably better than ninety percent of the rest of the field at the time. But when you set the rhyming bar as high as he did on Reasonable Doubt, with classic bars on several of the album’s tracks, the three of four times he takes flight on In My Lifetime (“Imaginary Players,” “Friend Or Foe ‘98,” “Where I’m From,” and “You Must Love Me”) pale in comparison.

The production on In My Lifetime is top-notch, as it successfully blends gutter boom-bap, soulful grooves, smooth bops, and polished pop-ready production together in an entertaining fashion. Jay sounds competent and confident throughout, even on the few instrumentals that miss. But the deep self-reflection theme found throughout Reasonable is replaced with mostly surface-level content, which mildly hinders the overall product sold by the hustler named Jay-Z, “who just so happens to know how to rap.”

-Deedub
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Mase – Harlem World (October 28, 1997)

Posted on 03/17/2026 by deedub77

Bad Boy Records was founded by Sean “Puffy” Combs in 1993, but the label’s foundation was laid on Craig Mack’s (RIP) platinum-selling debut single, “Flava In Ya Ear,” and the building was erected on the back of The Notorious B.I.G. But with Biggie’s tragic murder in March of 1997, Bad Boy’s cash cow was gone, and the label’s future was uncertain. Yes, they still had Faith Evans, Total, and 112 on the R&B side of the label, who were all successful in their own right, but none of them had the star status and money-generating power of Biggie. Craig Mack was no longer with Bad Boy, and though No Way Out was a massive success (seven times platinum), I’m sure most of those numbers were generated by curiosity, as it was the first Bad Boy release since Biggie’s murder. Regardless, Bad Boy needed a new rapper to pick up Biggie’s baton and continue the race that Puffy promised wouldn’t stop. Enter Mase into the equation.

Formerly known as Murder Mase, who ran with the underground Harlem crew, Children Of The Corn (which also included Cam’ron, Big L, and McGruff), he’d drop the Murder from his alias when he joined the Bad Boy team. The world was introduced to Mase through the lead single from No Way Out, “Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down,” released in January of ’97. Later that same year, he’d appear on a freestyle with Puff on Funkmaster Flex’s 60 Minutes Vol II, and Biggie’s radio-friendly single, “Mo’ Money Mo Problems.” After the success of No Way Out, it was prime time for Mase to release his debut album. He would strike with Harlem World in October of ‘97.

Backed by Puffy’s Bad Boy machine and the reliable hands of the Hitmen behind the boards (and a few other prominent producers that we’ll discuss later), Harlem World would produce three gold or better singles, climb to number one on the Billboard Top 200, and earn double platinum status less than two months after its release (to date its four times platinum). Alongside its commercial success, the album also received critical acclaim.

This is another album that I missed when it came out due to my hip-hop sabbatical. I found a used CD copy several years ago, and this review marks my first time listening to it. Let’s jump into it and see how this goes.

Puff’s Intro – What would a Bad Boy album be without Diddy talking all over it? Over the smooth yet funky stylings of an Isaac Hayes sample, Diddy welcomes us all to the place Mase calls home (Harlem) and lets us know what we can expect Mase to rap about on Harlem World: “life, death, sex, drugs, happiness, jealousy, envy, and reality.” Now, on with the show.

Do You Wanna Get $? – D-Dot and Amen-Ra tap Peter Brown’s 1978 disco hit, “Do Ya Wanna Get Funky With Me,” turning it into what I can only describe as aerobic funk, and I mean that in the most flattering way. Mase’s three verses address his doubters and naysayers and are consumed with boasts about major money and materialism. Mase’s talking points aren’t innovative, but his skill makes them sound intriguing, nonetheless. Kelly Price (who goes uncredited in the liner notes) stops by to ask/sing a soulful question on the hook, serving as the appealing bow on this nicely packaged open track.

Take What’s Yours – On this track, our host offers glimpses of why he was once known as Murder Mase. He gives his foes an option to handle their differences via “mics or metal,” and based on the violent threats he issues throughout the song, he’s leaning towards the latter. DMX (right before his massive blow-up the following year) adds a gritty, melodic hook that sounds decent at best. The beautifully tender piano loop in the instrumental was pleasant, but way too soft to give credibility to Mase’s thug theatrics.

Mad Rapper (Interlude) – The Mad Rapper (the comical creation of D-Dot Angelettie) returns for yet another Bad Boy skit. The original skit from Life After Death was mildly funny, but ever since he invited his brother, The Mad Producer, to join him, the skits have grown progressively worse.

Will They Die 4 You? – Diddy and Lil’ Kim join Mase on this Bad Boy cipher session. The instrumental (credited to Puffy and Amen-Ra) jacks the beat from EPMD’s classic joint “Get The Bozack.” Diddy’s expensive boasts sound feeble while Mase sounds confident and fittingly works a Parrish Smith bar into his verse (the infamous “Smack me and I’ll smack you back” line). Kim bats last and sounds bodaciously cocky, highlighted by her line: “Lil’ Kim spread like syphilis, you think I’m pussy? I dare you to stick your dick in this.” A bar I found, clever, sexy, and disgusting all at the same time. Despite Puffy’s subpar performance and a tediously wordy hook, this was a solid track.

Lookin’ At Me – By 1997, The Neptunes (the production duo of Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo) were prepping to go on a massive production run. It began in ‘96 with a couple of production credits for Total and SWV, but this track would be their first record for a rapper, and you can feel what would soon become their signature VA bounce throughout (it would also become a gold-selling single for our host). Mase handles it well, as he addresses his haters and those just dumbfounded by his presence with conceited bars. Along the way, he recycles a few lines from LL’s “Illegal Search” (which feels more like a homage than a bite) and dishes out a few witty, chuckle-worthy bars. The hook was a little cheesy, but the rest of the track’s elements make up for its corniness.

White Girl (Interlude) – As per the title, this brief interlude revolves around a phone conversation between Mase, his man, and two bad snow bunny groupies, Julie and Becky, who appear to be mesmerized by Mase and his ghetto aura. It’s good for a couple of laughs.

Love U So – It’s always interesting to me how different producers can use the same sample and get completely different results. For instance, Trackmasters flipped Teena Marie’s “Square Biz” for The Firm’s “Firm Biz,” which had a shiny popish glaze on it. Stevie J uses the same loop for this track, and his interpretation has an elegantly soulful feel. Mase’s monotone vocal tone and deadpan delivery blend well with the music, adding an extra layer of instrumentation to the track. Billy Lawrence drops by to sing a Rose Royce-inspired hook, continuing her short-lived rap song cameo run.

The Player Way – “No one expected the unexpected.” That’s the redundant quote 8Ball opens this track with, referring to the Suave House/Bad Boy collaboration that’s about to go down. Puffy provides the whispery ad-libs, 8Ball, Mase, and MJG entertain with player prosing, and the slick and slippery Mo-Suave-A Production will keep your head nodding while you rap along with 8Ball on the pimped-out hook. This record only heightened my anticipation of dissecting 8Ball & MJG’s catalog.

Hater (Interlude) – There is absolutely no reason why a Mad Rapper/Mad Producer rant and this whining, anonymous Mase-hater should exist on the same album.

Niggaz Wanna Act – The first time I listened to this record and heard the epic-sounding tribal war drums drop, I got nervous for Mase. I thought surely this massive banger (credited to Dame Grease and Younglord, even though Mase’s shout-out to D-Dot at the beginning of the record leads you to believe he made it) would completely demolish his wearisome voice. But to my surprise, Mase lassoes the beat, and he doesn’t completely sever its head, but he does inflict substantial damage to it (and he interestingly sends a direct shot at Dame Dash in the process). The cameo King, Busta Rhymes, adds a high-octane hook that only makes the track sound more dynamic. This was amazing.

Feel So Good – One of the few (if not only) records on Harlem World that I was familiar with before this review was also the lead single. Puffy and D-Dot are credited for the uncreative jacking of Kool & The Gang’s “Hollywood Swinging” for the crossover intended backdrop as Mase spews sleepy and expensive bars, and Kelly Price sings the hook, but this time she receives credit for it in the liner notes. I didn’t care for this song back in the day, but it’s a little more tolerable within the context of the album.

What You Want – This was the second single released from Harlem World. Mase has found the girl of his dreams (or as he calls her, his “ghetto love prophecy”) and spends the song’s three verses showering her with kind words and expensive gifts. Mase is pretty clever with the wordplay, but “Girl, I wanna give you carats ‘til you feel you a rabbit” is corny as hell, and any man who tells the woman he loves “I wanna see you happy even if it’s not with me” is full of shit. Total adds a silly hook to Nashiem Myrick’s moderately funky instrumental. I wasn’t blown away by this designer love song, but I’m obviously in the minority, as it is one of three singles to go gold or better on the album.

Phone Conversation (Interlude) – This hi-larious skit is the perfect example of when juggling too many ladies goes wrong. One of the ladies named in the skit (Arion) is also rumored to have sparked a short-lived feud between Mase and Jay-Z (and was probably the muse for the Dame Dash dis a few tracks ago), but I’ll let y’all scour the internet for the facts on that one.

Cheat On You – Mase is joined by Lil’ Cease and Jay-Z (which I found interesting since Mase dissed Dame during “Niggaz Wanna Act”) as the three take turns justifying their own dirt by assuming that all women cheat (Jay getting “Shirley Murdock” and hoping his one-night stand’s “door slam lock” when he creeps out in the morning is hysterical). 112 harmonizes the trio’s sentiment on the hook, and Jermaine Dupri laces the track with a solid R&B-tinted instrumental, which ends up being the perfect soundtrack for creeping.

24 Hrs. To Live – Now here’s an original song idea. For the hook, Puffy asks the listener what they would do with their time if they had one day left to live. Mase, Jadakiss, Black Rob, Sheek Louch, Styles P, and DMX (in that order) answer the question in rhyme form. The cast of characters’ final deeds range from righteous to downright ratchet, but mostly entertaining. Speaking of entertaining, D-Dot’s melodically airy backdrop sounds pretty dope underneath the gang’s ghetto shenanigans.

I Need To Be – This record has a whole lot of creepy in it, and I don’t mean the horror movie kind. It starts off with Mase telling his homeboy that he followed a girl he was hoping to smash to school (in his defense, he thought she was of age, but it’s still some stalker shit). Then later in his first verse, he talks about feeling like a molester and rhymes “every time I go to touch it, then she say I hurt it.” And am I the only one that finds it odd that our host is cool with eating ass but frowns upon eating pussy (though he promises to give the object of his erection’s “clit a kiss” in exchange for a kiss on his dick during the last verse)? Monifah’s apprehensive hook and the eerie flute in the D-Dot/Chucky Thompson-produced instrumental only intensify the song’s underlying pedophilia vibes.

Watch Your Back (Interlude) – This phone conversation between Mase and an angry baby daddy who’s upset with our host for giving his phone number to his girl sounds like it might have been a real phone call. Either way, it makes me laugh every time I hear the peeved papa tell Mase, “Don’t give my girl your number no more,” and I laugh even harder when dude boasts he’s been to jail twice and he wants to back. Peeved papa is also a prophetic papa as he closes his rant, predicting that Puffy wouldn’t be there for Mase when the smoke cleared. Time is truly Illmatic.

Wanna Hurt Mase? – This sounds like Mase’s version of Biggie’s “My Downfall” (it even comes with the preceding hater phone call skit), but not nearly as entertaining.

Jealous Guy – Remember Mike Bivins’ kiddie group who wore their clothes inside out (and Kris Kross thought it was “wigiddy, wigiddy, wigiddy, wack!”), Another Bad Creation? For some reason, Mase, Puffy, and 112 thought it would be a good idea to remake their somber ballad, “Jealous Girl.” It might have worked if Mase rapped, 112 took care of the singing, and Puff didn’t appear on the track at all. Instead, 112 sings the background vocals while Mase and Puffy sound like they’re doing drunk karaoke, completely destroying the original song in the process. I know this was meant strictly for amusement, but Mase and Puff’s singing is so bad I couldn’t even conjure up a chuckle.

During Harlem World’s opening track (“Do You Want To Get $?”), Mase addresses the elephant in the room when he raps: “The moral of the story is, I’m not here to replace Notorious.” Mase realized Biggie was a talent that could never be replaced. Instead of trying to fill Biggie’s gigantic Timbs (a mistake Shyne would make a few years later), Mase had a different agenda, which he shares on the very next bar: “I’m just a young cat tryna do his thing, Harlem World style, pursue my dream.” Smart man.

Mase’s content on Harlem World is far from original, as he spends most of the album dissin’ player haters, bragging about his “money, hoes, and clothes” with sprinkles of tough guy talk and gangsta babble. I liked what Mase did on “Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down” and “Mo Money, Mo Problems,” but he was the help on both tracks, and I was leery of his sleepy, monotone vocal tone and deadpan delivery being able to carry the weight for the length of a solo project. Surprisingly, Mase’s understatedly witty punchlines and clever wordplay, along with the perfect scattering of guest cameos (just enough where it doesn’t feel like he’s leaning on them for support), keep Harlem World’s redundant themes entertaining. Puffy and his Hitmen strategically score Mase’s expensive boasts, player poetry, and high-priced stanzas with a handful of pure hip-hop beats mixed into a plethora of radio friendly/R&B flavored grooves, allowing Mase to maintain his street credibility while crossing over, similar to what Biggie did on Life After Death.

As one would expect with any twenty track album, Harlem World does have a few mishaps (too many skits and “Jealous Girl”) and a few mediocre moments that wouldn’t have been missed if shaved off the final cut (“Feel So Good,” “What You Want,” and “I Need To Be,” which is ironic since two of those three records were singles). But it’s a solid debut album from Mr. Betha that keeps Bad Boy’s streak of quality hip-hop albums alive.

There. I made it through a whole Bad Boy review without any baby oil or semen-on-nipple jokes.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic

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Nice & Smooth – IV: Blazing Hot (October 28, 1997)

Posted on 03/03/2026 by deedub77

The last time we checked in with Nice & Smooth here at TimeIsIllmatic was for their third album, Jewel Of The Nile, released in 1994. Jewel was the duo’s second and last project released under the Def Jam affiliate label, Rush. Unlike its predecessor (Ain’t A Damn Thing Changed), Jewel didn’t have any signature singles and went relatively under the radar, which might explain why they and the label parted ways after its release. After a three-year hiatus, Nice & Smooth would return with their fourth release, IV: Blazing Hot.

IV was released on Street Life Records, the same label that gave us Craig Mack’s Operation: Get Down and the Laylaw compilation album, The Lawhouse Experience. Greg Nice handled most of the production duties on Nice & Smooth’s first three albums, but only receives credit for two of the twelve tracks on IV. The duo would call on the likes of Kid Capri, Easy Mo Bee, Mark Sparks, and a few others to provide the instrumentation this go round. Like its predecessor, IV came and left without a trace like a John bustin’ off in a hooker’s mouth. It is also the last time Nice & Smooth released a project together.

I’m a Nice & Smooth fan, but I have to be honest: none of their first three albums were great bodies of work. They all had bright moments, but also included some dim spots and shoddy production, hindering the overall product. This is my first time listening to IV since it found me while I was digging through the used CD bins at Cheapos several years ago. Hopefully, after three rounds of trial and error, the duo makes the proper corrections.

Blazing Hot – The show begins with looped buttery bass guitar strums placed over competent drums, and Greg Nice’s sampled voice urging the listener to “Get the album, cassingle, CD, and tapes” (all courtesy of Kid Capri). Greg Nice bats first and spews one of his vintage, fun, off-the-top-of-the-dome-esque verses, followed by a cool, calm, and perfectly packaged paragraph from Smooth B. Two verses, a call-and-response hook, and our hosts get the fuck out of Dodge at the two-and-a-half-minute mark. Well done, fellas.

NY Intro – A quick snippet of a hyped male voice instructs a New York crowd to make some noise, and the crowd obliges. This bleeds directly into the next song.

Boogie Down Bronx / BK Connection – Nice & Smooth reps for The Bronx as they invite their Brooklyn bredrin, Rappin’ Is Fundamental, to join them on this inter-borough cipher session. If you’re not familiar with Rappin’ Is Fundamental, they were a three-man team (Easy Mo Bee, AB Money, and JR the Stone Cold Lover) that called their style “doo-hop” because they mixed rhyming with harmonies, which today is just called hip-hop. AB and JR showcase a little of this fusion while Mo Bee drops a few bars and provides the hypnotizing groove (Greg Nice’s catchy hook makes the already dope instrumental sound even better). RIF’s performance was passable, but I would much rather have their mic time replaced with more Nice & Smooth bars.

I’ll Be Good To You – Michelob (whose name I became familiar with for the solid “freestyle” he spat on Funkmaster Flex’s 60 Minutes Of Funk Volume II) sprinkles spotless, warm, and tender R&B vibes all over this track. Love is in the air, as Greg Nice dedicates his verse to all the single mothers and his mom-dukes, who raised Greg without a father. Smooth B sounds like a slick Casanova running game on a chick who’s clearly scorned from her previous relationship (his game includes a little dirty mackin’ as he talks down on her ex), but maybe he has good intentions. The duo invites a male vocalist named Josiah to croon on the hook in an attempt to expand the Nice & Smooth female fan base. I’m not sure if the ladies liked this record, but I enjoyed it.

Let It Go – This is the Yin to the previous track’s Yang. Rich Nice loops up Brenda Russell’s “Piano In The Dark” to create a somber mood for our hosts to discuss the heartache and pain of walking away from love when you know the relationship is no longer good for you (or, in the case of Greg Nice’s last scenario, walking away from love and the crack rock). Cool concept, but I hate the chunky drumbeat placed underneath the sad sample.

Lockdown – This is pretty much a Greg Nice solo joint. Greg provides the vibey hook, and besides a quick eight bars that Smooth B sounds reluctant to spit (with three of the eight getting interrupted by Greg Nice), he does all the rhyming. The fellas sound decent enough on the mic, but the soulfully jazzy vibes in Paul Pistachio’s backdrop do the heavy lifting on this track.

Scared Money – The song title comes from the old financial investment adage: “Scared money doesn’t make money,” which means that if you’re not willing to take some investment risks with your money, it’ll be hard to grow wealth. Based on Nice & Smooth’s verses, I don’t think they fully grasp the meaning of the term, or they just completely lost focus on it when writing their rhymes for this song. I’ve always thought Aaron Hall sounded like Charlie Wilson, but he sounds like a Stevie Wonder clone singing the ad-libs and hook on this record that I never need to hear again.

Hot Shit – The horn loop gives the instrumental an aristocratic feel, and Smooth B must have shared my sentiment as he starts his verse off claiming to be “royalty.” Solid album cut.

Mad Love – Cool rhymes from our hosts, but Greg Nice’s boring beat almost lulled me to sleep.

Same Old Brand New Style (I Can’t Wait) – Thanks to Puffy and his Henchmen, I mean, Hitmen, sampling eighties pop hits became a thing in the mid-nineties. Sean Devereaux loops up the one-hit wonder, Nu Shooz’s “I Can’t Wait” for the backdrop that Greg Nice and Smooth B use to talk more slick shit over (Smooth B gets off what might be the funniest bar off the album with “I smoke chunky, I’m no flunky, my lyrical flow will knock needles out of junkies”). The record makes for decent filler material, but the guest vocalist singing the hook (Bernard Wright) sounds like he drank a fifth of Hennessy before he hit the recording booth.

Busta Rhymes Intro – Greg Nice calls Busta up on stage at a live show, and he showers N&S with kind words for their contribution to the genre. This leads directly into the next track.

DWYCK Live – It plays exactly as it reads, minus Guru’s verse (RIP), Smooth B being completely out of breath, and Greg Nice blasphemously replacing “Premier” and requesting that “Holiday” take them out with the fader. “DWYCK” is an all-time classic record, but there’s absolutely no reason this subpar performance should have been placed on the album.

In the late 1950s, a French electrician named Andre Cassagnes created a toy that placed aluminum powder in a red plastic frame with a flat screen and two knobs on the bottom of the frame that moved a stylus to write and draw on the screen. He originally named the invention L’Ecran Magique (French for “The Magic Screen”), but once the Ohio Art Company introduced it in the U.S. in 1960, it became known as the Etch A Sketch. The Etch A Sketch became a massive success, selling over 100 million units and earning a spot in the National Toy Hall of Fame in 1998. Six decades later, it remains a source of joy and entertainment for young kids, which is extremely impressive considering its simple design has remained virtually unchanged and continues to compete in a market flooded with technologically advanced toys. The Etch A Sketch is proof that staying steadfast and focusing on the fundamentals while most of the world is looking for the next hot trend can pay off. Nice & Smooth is hip-hop’s version of the Etch A Sketch, only way less successful.

Nice & Smooth’s names are seldom mentioned in the conversation for best hip-hop duos. And they might not be the best, but what they do together on the mic is severely underappreciated. The same formula they came in the game with in 1989 lives on for IV. Greg Nice consistently delivers animated, random one-liners in his cartoonish vocal tone that keep you amused, and his basic but effective call-and-response type refrains are the backbone to almost every record on the album (During “Hot Shit,” Greg even refers to himself as “the man with the hooks”). Smooth B plays Greg’s faithful and content wingman. He always lets his partner set things up with the hook and the opening verse before getting off his neatly packaged, well-articulated, simple yet potent bars, all delivered in his signature regal storytelling tone. None of the duo’s content is conceptually high-tech or complex, but their mastery of the fundamentals is entertaining to listen to for most of the project.

While Nice & Smooth’s chemistry and fundamentally strong brand of emceeing have always been intact, inconsistent production has plagued their catalog. Even with Greg Nice relinquishing most of the production duties, the inconsistencies remain on IV. There are three undisputed musical gems (the title track, “Boogie Down Bronx/BK Connection,” and “Lockdown”), but most of the rest fall into the decent category, with one very dull moment (“Mad Love”).

Unlike the Etch A Sketch, Nice & Smooth were unable to translate their sturdy fundamentals into 100 million units sold, but to their credit, not many rappers have accomplished that feat. Still, the duo’s fourth (and at this point, probably, final) outing is not a terrible listen. But it’s more simmering lukewarm than blazing hot.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic

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Spice 1 – The Black Bossalini (Aka Dr. Bomb From Da Bay) (October 28, 1997)

Posted on 02/24/2026 by deedub77

As a forty-something-year-old father, husband, and productive citizen, gangsta rap doesn’t appeal to me like it did when I was a teen or in my twenties. I credit the change to maturity, morality, and just plain being tired of hearing rappers talk about money, murder, materialism, and magnetic mademoiselles. But there are still a handful of gangsta rappers that serve as an audio guilty pleasure for me. Spice 1 is one of those.

Spice 1’s self-titled debut album and its follow-up, 187 He Wrote, are often forgotten and overlooked classic gangsta rap albums. You’d be hard-pressed to name another gangsta rapper to have a stronger debut and follow-up than that combination. I’ve never listened to Amerikkka’s Nightmare (though I recently stumbled on a reasonably priced used CD copy, which I’ll be reviewing in the foreseeable future), but his fourth release, 1990-Sick, failed to live up to the high gangsta rap bar he set with his first two outings. Spice 1 would return in 1997 with his fifth release, The Black Bossalini.

The Black Bossalini would feature production from a handful of West Coast heavyweights, including Ant Banks, Paris, Hen Gee, Mike Mosley, and Rick Rock (not to be confused with Rick Ross), as well as a few lesser-known beatmakers. It would also feature cameos from some prominent Left Coast rappers that we’ll get into a little later. The album would climb to twenty-eight on The Billboard 200, but like its predecessor, 1990-Sick, it failed to reach gold status. Not only was The Black Bossalini a commercial failure, but it also received lukewarm reception from the critics, including a 3 Mic Rating from The Source.

This review marks my first time listening to The Black Bossalini. However, the slight step downward in the quality of 1990-Sick and The Source’s 3 Mic rating has me entering this review with some concerns. Fingers crossed.

The Thug In Me – Spice kicks the album off flexing his thug bravado and letting the ladies know that his gangster mannerisms will serve as a security blanket if they choose to roll with him (per the liner notes, this record is dedicated to Pac, whose influence you can definitely hear in the hook). S-P-I’s lyrical shenanigans are backed by Paris-programmed, semi-soulful keys and a vintage West Coast synthesized whistling melody. It’s an entertaining bop, but as I’ve mentioned several times in doing this blog, I like my hip-hop albums to start with high energy, which this track doesn’t have. Oh yeah, and Spice 1’s puny gunshot ad-lib (“Bloaw!”) lives on.

I’m High – Paris completely flips the script from the production he provided on the previous track. The prior smooth groove is replaced with pounding drums, a pulsating bass line, and an unsettling dark synth riff that makes you feel like something terrible is on the verge of happening. Spice takes a rare break from his normal gangsta jabber to roll up trees and get “higher than giraffe pussy” while a choir ensemble (credited to Da Old Skool) takes us to church on the hook, rejoicing over the herbal elevation (the sanctified keys that come in towards the end of the record almost make me want to shout “Amen!”). “Kick back, lay back, and throw them feet up/sometimes I wanna roll a whole fuckin’ tree up/I break it down, halves and O’s/smoking more than a broke down sixty-fo’/and ain’t no nigga in the world that can outsmoke me/the muthafuckin’ chronic addict. S-P-I-C-E/Bill Clinton hit the chronic, and he didn’t inhale/but I’mma cough a fuckin’ lung up for niggas in jail.” Post The Chronic, if you’re going to rehash (no pun intended) a subject as overly covered as smoking weed, make sure the rhymes are as entertaining as Spice 1’s and the music hits as hard as Paris’ brilliant banger.

Recognize Game – Spice is joined by two West Coast legends, Ice-T and Too Short, for a truncated hustler-player-gangster cipher, and all three parties show up prepared for the affair. Ant Banks scores the session with mysterious keys, suited for twilight hours, and discrete but funky guitar plucks (courtesy of PeeWee). Kokane’s swagged-out reimagining of a Gap Band refrain for the hook is the cherry on top of this underworld anthem.

Playa Man – Paris jacks and recycles the soulful seventies Smokey Robinson-sampled instrumental that he previously produced for a track with the same title (only “Playa” ends with an “er”) for a group called The D.E.E.P. Spice 1 uses it to share his perspective on the matter, and let me tell you, anyone who twirls the steering wheel of their Caddy with their middle finger, is indeed a certified player. This was fire.

Caught Up In My Gunplay – The moment I heard Marvin Gaye’s sampled voice from one of my favorite Marvin joints (“Anger”) to open this record, I got excited. Paris mixes Marvin’s smooth vocals with a pissed-off bass line, seething, semi-muted guitar licks, and cool drum claps to back Spice, who uses the track to exercise his heartless trigger (lacing a man with bullets in hopes of killing him more than once is another level of demented). Spice sells his murderous rage on this record, and Paris’ backdrop is Teflon tough.

Ballin’ – Hen Gee and Bobby Ross Avila craft a melodically zany musical bed that sounds more suited for a Broadway play than a canvas for Spice and his guest, Yukmouth (from Luniz), to jack and kill fools over (I don’t know if I should throw up the West side or jazz hands when I listen to this record). MC Breed (RIP) is credited as a featured guest, but all he contributes is a few ad-libs in between verses, and Kokane adds a few soulful harmonies and dramatic shrieks. Broadway vibes aside, I enjoyed the musical backing way more than Spice 1 and Yukmouth’s rapping (bars!).

Tha Boss Mobsta – Gangstas might not dance, but they’d definitely shoot and roller skate to this hard Clint “Payback” Sands-produced groove. Bloaw!

510, 213 – Representing The Bay and its 510-area code, Spice 1 connects with his 213-Los Angeles comrades, Big Syke (RIP) and WC, for this trans-California mob session. Some might find Mike Mosley and Femi Ojetunde’s G-Funk flip and replay of Stevie Wonder’s “That Girl” for the backing music cheesy, which I can understand, but I actually enjoyed it.

Kill Street Blues – The song title is a corny play off an old eighties police drama (Hill Street Blues). Speaking of drama, S-P-I creates his own violent version that includes a home invasion, two shootouts, dead bodies, a police chase, and guns that talk to our deranged host. I usually enjoy Spice 1 most when he’s in storytelling mode, but this script falls short of the glory of gangsta. Rick Rock’s G-Funk horror music falls flat as well.

Fetty Chico And The Mack – The second consecutive song to reference an old TV series in its title (this time it’s the seventies sitcom, Chico And The Man). Spice transforms into Fetty Chico, and Mack 10, aka Mack Manson, joins our host for this murder display (Mack 10 also displays his necrophilia tendencies during his verse). Mack 10 sounds unenthusiastic about the murders he’s committed, and his lack of energy must have rubbed off on Spice, I mean, Fetty, as his violent threats also feel halfhearted. To make matters worse, the hook is embarrassingly bad, and the Ant Banks-produced backdrop completely flatlines.

Wanna Be A G – This Rick Rock/Femi Ojetunde-produced track has similar Broadway vibes as “Ballin’,” only with a darker feel (it’s the Bizzaro version of “Ballin’”). Spice calls out all the player hatin’ “niggas and bitches” who can’t seem to keep his name out of their mouths (or his dick out of their hands). I wasn’t feeling the E-40-esque flow (whom he shouts out during the first verse) that S-P-I delivers his rhymes with, but the instrumentation was decent enough.

Diamonds – This one begins with a demonically distorted voice sharing a short pimp’s poem, before Spice delves into his pursuit of bitches, money, and diamonds, and of course, he touches on guns and gangsterism. I’ve never heard the name Ali Malek before reading his name in the liner notes as the producer of this track. He hooks up a banger that’s hard enough for the gangstas to mob to and sexy enough for the strippers to slide down the pole to.

Down Payment On Heaven – Back-to-back production credits for Ali Malek. This time he interpolates LeVert’s “Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop (Goes My Mind),” turning the quiet storm jam into a vulnerable platform for Spice to converse with God as he expresses regret for his murderous ways and gangsta lifestyle: “I often wonder what the game got in store for me, and if I die would my niggas go to war for me? Would I want ‘em to if I’m with you up in heaven? Would I forgive it if I’m where those evil demons be dwelling? I get caught up in the madness sometimes and lose my mind, lost in the drama, debatin’ if I should use my nine.” The fact that he begins the record quoting Bible scriptures and ends it with a prayer, thanking Jesus, makes his verses sound even more sincere. The Oakland duo Cydal (not to be confused with Dramacydal, who later morphed into Outlawz) takes the second verse and sticks with Spice’s “semi-repentant talk with God” theme, and they sound pretty damn convincing. Bryant Roberts plays Gerald Levert, cleverly putting a gangsta twist on the original song’s refrain for the hook. I enjoy listening to reflective Spice 1. This is easily my favorite record on the album.

2 Hands & A Razorblade – The album’s final track finds Spice chronicling the barbaric culture of prison life, live from inside the belly of the beast. Spice might not have been intentionally trying to, but his vivid account of prison is sure to detour some young knucklehead from heading down the path to land them behind bars. This would be great material for a Scared Straight program. Paris matches our host’s traumatic experience with a moody bassline and synth sounds that are dripping with despair. A great, and dark way, to close things out.

Founded in 1857, Borsalino is a luxury Italian hat brand, specializing in fedora-style hats. The Borsalino fedora was popularized in the thirties by Italian mobsters like Al Capone and Lucky Luciano, and through the years has stood as a signature fashion piece for mobsters. With the album title and artwork, Spice 1 pays homage to Borsalino’s gangster legacy, donning his own “black Bossalini” fedora on the album cover and carrying on his own gangster boss legacy with the music. If Al Capone and Lucky Luciano were brought back to life and transported to the Bay Area circa 1997, I’m sure they’d tip their Borsalinos to Spice after listening to this album.

Per usual, Spice 1 sticks with a gangsta theme throughout the album, but his body count seems slightly less than it was on his previous projects. His charisma, versatile flow, and uncanny ability to make words C-Walk keep his repetitive murderous messages from growing mundane, for the most part. Spice (and most of his guests, not named Mack 10) entertain with violent verses and hustler hoopla, but the production on The Black Bossalini bangs even more than our host’s gun. The album’s handful of producers score Spice’s thug jamboree with hard-hitting G-Funk bangers, melodic gangsta grooves, and handfuls of soulful vibes. There are a few dreary musical moments on The Black Bossalini (i.e., “Kill Street Blues” and “Fetty Chico And The Mack”), but most of the album is an enjoyable gangsta experience.

Spice 1 has been gangsta rapping since 1992. He’s released at least 16 albums to date, the latest in 2024 (Platinum O.G. 2). I’m sure at some point during my journey through Spice’s catalog, his thug theatrics will become tedious, and the musical quality will wane. But The Black Bossalini is not where that begins. It’s not nearly as stellar as his first two albums, but it’s a step up from 1990-Sick, and it’s left me eager to experience and dissect Amerikkka’s Nightmare.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic

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Rappin’ 4-Tay – 4 Tha Hard Way (October 21,1997)

Posted on 02/10/2026 by deedub77

It’s fair to say that Todd “Too-Short” Shaw put the Bay Area on the hip-hop map. Armed with a monotone mouthpiece, rudimentary rap skills, pimp promo, and arguably the greatest adlib in the history of hip-hop (“beeaatch!”), The Oakland native created a buzz by selling tapes out of the trunk of his car. He would eventually get the attention of Jive Records, where he’d release fourteen projects in a twenty-year span, producing several hits, selling millions of albums, and cementing his legacy as a rap star. Short’s pioneering work would open the door for other Bay Area rappers: MC Hammer, Digital Underground, 2Pac, E40, Da Click, Spice 1, Dru Down, Celly Cel, Del the Funky Homosapien, Souls of Mischief, The Coup, Luniz, and the subject of today’s post, Rappin’ 4-Tay.

Hailing from San Francisco, California, Anthony Forte got his first major exposure on wax in 1988 as a guest on Too-Short’s “Don’t Fight The Feelin’” from his Life Is…Too Short album. Sometime after that, 4-Tay would fall into the street traps that, unfortunately, many young Black males do, and end up serving a ten-month prison stint on drug charges. After regaining his freedom, he returned to the booth and released his debut album, Rappin’ 4-Tay Is Back, on the independent label Rag Top Records in 1991. He’d eventually end up in a deal with Chrysalis, where he’d release his second and third projects (Don’t Fight The Feelin’ and Off Parole, respectively) before landing at Noo Trybe Records, where he delivered his fourth album and the subject of today’s post, 4 Tha Hard Way.

Coming into this review, my only exposure to Rappin’ 4-Tay was his cameos on a couple of Too Short records (see “Don’t Fight The Feelin’” and “Never Talk Down”), his guest appearance on Pac’s “Only God Can Judge Me,” and his “Playaz Club” single off the Don’t Fight The Feelin’ album. But those handful of morsels piqued my interest enough that when I see his albums in the used CD bins for a few dollars, I cop, and here we are today. Let’s jump into it.

Playaz Dedication – The track begins with a clip of Sway interviewing Tupac, who shouts out Rappin’ 4-Tay in the process. Then Les G’s somber synth production comes in for 4-Tay to emote the pain of losing a homie as he analyzes the jealousy and envy that fueled the fire for their early demises. It’s an odd way to start an album, but a solid record, nonetheless.

One Nite – The track starts with the sexiest wah-wah guitar licks I’ve ever heard on a hip-hop record (it’s the perfect motif to hear while a thong and heel-clad SZA stands before you). The beat eventually kicks in, and the wah-wahs remain (though they never sound as tempting as they did during the track’s intro), as 4-Tay spits game to a dame in hopes of a one-night stand. This was some cool player shit that I could appreciate.

Beats 4 Sale (Comm. Short) – Useless skit that sort of sets up the next track.

What’s Wrong Wit The Game – The omission of a question mark at the end of the song title is the artist’s error, not mine. 4-Tay is joined by his fellow Bay Area homeboy, and one of my least favorite overrated rappers, E40. The two swap verses addressing the issues with the rap game, which, in their opinion, boils down to overzealous rappers and producers, like the fella on the previous skit. Lyrically, E-40 sounds decent on this track; it’s his presentation that throws things off (i.e., mush-mouth stutter, sporadic shifting to a sloppy speed flow, and the random Tourette’s-like screams), making him nearly impossible to tolerate. But even if 40 was absent from the record, 4-Tay’s uninspired output and the lackluster instrumental would keep me from coming back to this track.

Money Makes The Man – This one starts with more ultra-wet wah-wah licks (which, even though the liner notes don’t directly credit him, I’m sure are courtesy of G Man Stan). Eventually, Mike City’s semi-drab production (that transitions to melodically enticing when the minor chord progression happens during the hook) comes in for 4-Tay and his guests, J. Mess and Sauce, to plaster with money worship and redundantly superficial player gloats.

Where You Playin’ At – Our host uses a slow-rolling, modestly funky Ant Banks-produced instrumental to show gratitude and brag about all the places and adventures hip-hop has allowed him to experience. It’s not spectacular, but it makes for a solid album cut.

Cold Blooded – If you’re going to remake an artist’s record, no better way to do it than having the artist join you on it. Rick James accompanies Rappin’ 4-Tay on this remake of his early eighties funk classic. 4-Tay’s salivating over some young tender, dropping cliche compliments and corny pick-up lines (the worst being “You’re like a recommended daily allowance”) while Mr. James sings the hook, ad-libs, and pieces of the original record. From the shabby laidback synthy music to James and 4-Tay’s performance, this record was hard to listen to.

Just Came Up – Another skit to set up the next song.

Back At Cha – Ant Banks slides 4-Tay some slick gangsta shit that he uses to warn any would-be perpetrators (bustas, creepers, sticky-fingered muthafuckas, punk bitches, lowdown dirty bastards, suckas, and cops) that if you try to take his, you will feel his heat. And I believe him.

Playa 4 Life – I mentioned earlier that I wasn’t a fan of E40’s rapping, but I absolutely despise Master P’s. Unfortunately, he and 4-Tay go back and forth on this track. The K Lou/Lettrel Evan-produced instrumental was passable, but 4-Tay sounds lackluster, and Master P manages to live up to my expectations.

What Fo’ – 4-Tay uses this one to call for peace, love, respect, and accountability in the streets, and he even calls himself to the floor with a repentant tone on the hook. Reflective 4-Tay, paired with synthesized blues, highlighted by magnificently mournful guitar play, easily makes this one of my favorite joints on 4 Tha Hard Way.

Ain’t Nobody Coachin’ – More playa propaganda, courtesy of Tay and his guest, Franky J. The duo uses Mike City’s Guy’s “Teddy’s Jam” interpolated production to bring attention to the ratio discrepancy of players to coaches, with the moral of the story being: “Don’t call yourself a G if you ain’t helpin’ nobody.” This track should have been left on the cutting room floor.

Brin’ The Beat Back – 4-Tay’s joined by another undeserving crony of his (Lil Fly) as the two split mic time, reminiscing and exchanging bland boasts. At least the fleet-footed guitar plucks in Premiere Music’s backdrop were enjoyable.

Lay Ya Gunz Down – Our host aggressively calls for all brothers to put their guns down and put an end to Black-on-Black violence over G Man Stan’s serious-toned instrumental. Great message, decent record.

The Biggie (Comm. Short) – 4 Tha Hard Way might have the most uninteresting skits in the history of hip-hop albums. Anyway, this one sets up the next song.

The Biggie – Reggae artist, Screwface, joins 4-Tay as the two, fittingly, pass the mic like a blunt and celebrate smoking ganja over a generic reggae riddim credited to The Producer Formally Known As C-Funk (which is a mouthful of an alias). By 1997, weed worship was already an exhausted subject in hip-hop, and this schwag record only makes the topic feel more draining.

Shake It – Al Eaton chefs up a Zapp-esque funk banger (the track also samples Zapp’s “Dance Floor” for its hook) for Tay and The Conscious Daughters, who are ready to party and sweat their collective perms out (Special One (RIP) gets off the sexiest bars of the night when she spits: “But at the party Fo’, I turns into a stank hoe, workin’ that nigga right down to the flo’, and in my limo it’s straight to the mo’, then I shake it”). All three parties give serviceable performances, but the rhymes take a back seat to the track’s stank-face funk and trunk-rattling bass line.

Element Of Surprize – The Producer Formally Known As C-Funk gets his second and final production credit of the night, this time cooking up a mysterious pimped-out space groove. 4-Tay invites a few more of his Bay Area homies (San Quin and Messy Marv) to exchange hustler hood soliloquies. 4-Tay sounds confidently sharp on the song’s final verse, getting off his best bars of the album: “Everybody’s got a hustle, even Bill and Hillary Clinton, shit, the whole White House is pimpin’, explicit lyrics wanted, for cussin’ and discussion that we be bustin’ over percussion, man, we just hustlin’.” This was fire.

Thinking About You – 4-Tay’s looking for a “Queen Nefertiti with all the trimmings” to come live in his castle until death do. G Man Stan reinterprets an early eighties Stevie Wonder record (“All I Do”) for the instrumental while a man named Carl Douglas croons about 4-Tay’s fantasy fem on the hook. For the most part, 4-Tay avoids the banal bars that this type of rap song tends to fall victim to. But C.D.’s singing sounds like a godawful, drunken Stevie Wonder karaoke session.

4-Tha Hardway – “Off parole” and “Fresh up out that Penzolla” (which might be the coolest slang term ever created for prison), our host sounds slightly angry and ready for war, be it rhymes or some real gangsta shit. I wonder if this song was inspired by a specific individual, because 4-Tay sounds sincere and locked in rhyming over the murder mystery-stained backdrop.

The more I do this blog, the more I realize that it takes so much more than just great lyrical ability to make dope records and a good album. One could have the talent to spew ferocious bars with incredible wordplay and tenacity, but still make forgettable records and a dud of an album. Then, there are others that may be lesser lyrically, but possess a special X factor that makes their music intriguing. Insert Rappin’ 4-Tay into the conversation.

Much like his Bay Area contemporary, Too-Short, Rappin’ 4-Tay is far from an upper echelon lyricist (though I would put his rapping skill set a few notches higher than Short’s). But the soft, raspy texture of his vocal tone and his straightforward approach to rhyming make him easy to like, or at least root for. On 4 Tha Hard Way, 4-Tay doesn’t reinvent the content wheel, as he sticks with the traditional West Coast hustler themes of chasing women, chasing money, partying, dissin’ player haters, and players he deems inferior; and of course, he includes a few obligatory hood social commentary records to balance things out. 4-Tay’s formula may not be unique, but unlike most players, you can feel that he genuinely has respect for “the game,” and looks to uphold its integrity (as contradictory as that sounds).

The music on 4 Tha Hard Way is a steady dose of Bay Area funk via immaculate samples and interpolation, synthesized sounds, and live instrumentation with tantalizing guitar riffs as its secret ingredient. With all the different hands in the production pot, surprisingly, the album has a unified sound that works for the most part.

I enjoyed most of the album’s production, and 4-Tay takes off on a few of the album’s tracks, and even when he doesn’t, his soothing vocal tone serves as a raw flute, adding an extra layer to the instrumentation. But there is still absolutely no reason 4 Tha Hard Way should be more than twelve tracks in length. There is not enough variety in subject matter to justify twenty tracks, and the redundancy is only magnified by too many subpar guest appearances. But his two previous albums were both sixteen tracks long, so maybe making long albums is just his forte (*rim shot*).

In the game of craps, “4 the hard way” means betting four and rolling a pair of twos, because it’s harder to do than roll a one-three or a three-one. Since “4 the hard way” is more difficult to hit, it usually pays higher as a prop bet (7-to-1 or 8-to-1), but rolling a three-one would still be a winning bet, just at a lower payout. With his fourth project, Rappin’ 4-Tay bets on himself and fails to roll a pair of twos, but pulls it off by rolling a three-one.

-Deedub
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