![]() See “Everyday” when Meek punctuates “I make a hater want to kill himself” with “#suicide.” Even for hashtag rap, that’s just idiotic. Even on superficially good songs like “Flexin,’” he takes pleasure in the corniest of lines like “If you ain’t talkin about money than you aint got no sense” or “I don’t chase no bitches, I just chase my dreams, we ride around so dirty in this whip that’s so clean.” He has a nice, overflowing pot of clichés to reach into (rap is like cooking crack, he’s stunting and everyone’s hating) and no sense of subtlety whatsoever. Mill is the opposite: nice rapping but a black hole where his character should be. In recent years, we’ve faced down a glut of rappers like Gucci Mane and Lil B with outsized personalities and minimal traditional skill. He’s got a thin, loud voice and can ride each beat he’s handed here, never falling behind or sounding outmatched by any of his competitors as far as technical ability goes. He gives the agreeable impression of a man who is unsurprised to find himself suddenly rich and in the company of hyper-sexual pop divas-even on the songs that reflect on the “ashy” part of ashy to classy, Meek Mill starts out by making money. Whenever Mill is spotted a colossal beat, say like the one on “Burn,” his collaboration with Big Sean, or the awesomely hyper “Flexin’” or the Fugees sampling “Ready Or Not” or the remix of “House Party,” he comes through with digestible rhymes, riding the beat and griping about disloyalty and new cars and turning heads and the like. Meekus Mill.ĭreamchasers 2 isn’t half bad. ![]() Between the Killer Mike and Ab-Soul albums, I’ve been on black radical sabbatical, but I’m returning to the mainstream for a moment - a shift from fiery personalities/righteous anger/interesting albums to the distinctly un-radical new mixtape of Messr.
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