If every member of Boyz N Da Hood could write as reflectively as group member Big Gee, this debut might survive its hype. Instead, its a collection of trunk-rattling beats featuring a cast of boastful Southern rap heavyweights.
On Happy Jamz, Gee raps, My sister had cancer on the clit ... my uncle had cancer in the dick/My auntie had cancer in her ass/She aint even wanna shit. Its a funny-sobering lyric, and one of the albums two seminal moments. The other, Trap Niggaz, is a slow, horn-laced ditty that attempts to show upstart Jody Breeze how to survive the drug game.
And there you have it, two substantive sides of 16. You want sound quality? Its there. Youve got beats hard enough to get clubs jumpin, and yes, the rappers can spit. But its wedged in raps rut; more solution-less reports about street life.
Detroit is still recovering from the loss of two of its most promising hip-hop artists, Blade Icewood and Wipeout. Here, more than anywhere else, Boyz N Da Hood is bullshit and posturing. Throw P. Diddy in the mix, and believability hits bottom. Aint buyin it.
Khary Kimani Turner writes about music for Metro Times. E-mail email@example.com.
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