part 1
Intro/#shots

One last thing that strikes me as notable about Gucci’s output, & tends to be an underrated part of the aesthetic judgments of rap fans in gen., is the sense of craft, & thats something refreshing that dude brings to the table in an era of loosely connected punchlines hammered home (“SOCCER TEAM!”) w/out any style. That sense of making crafted raps appear effortless.

10. Birds
it’s on person, i’m one person, but i’m twerkin’
on old national, traffickin’, call it networkin’
the bird chirpin’, it’s curb service, my pass perfect
like james worthy i dropped 40 points last thursday
but i’m wilt chamberlain, charm dancin’ and danglin’
pot scrr scrapin’ it, cookie cutters and bakeries
you hustlin’ lazily, so your wages marginal
green kush, white cane, pill color of cardinal
i blowed up, i’m blowin’ up them particles
gucci mane’s a trapper but that question’s rhetorical
go ask an oracle, better yet read an article
feds use binoculars, gucci sellin’ tilapia
twin chopp-e-rs, poppin’ ya, stand on top of ya,
helicopters transferrin’ ya to the docter-a
see i’m the author of cookie cappin’ and chargin’ ya
while i’m burnin yay in my kitchen just like an arensal

9. Pressure (1st verse)
the waves in my fade make a bitch need a surfboard
I bang on the track like GDs, crips and vice lords
bloods, latin kings, if you bang, throw your rag up…
whole clique flagged up, go and get toe tagged up
black car, white guts, you can call it oreo
gucci bring pies to your door like he dominoes
soldier like geronimo, my house big as the pentagon
out there trappin like texaco but now i’m finna buy the one
rims on my M made your trim wanna lay with him
slim with the tilted brim, flossing all the diamond gems
actually, trapping got me counting cash rapidly
wheels spin backwardly, brick squad factory

8. Weird (2nd verse)
my car got personality, the grille be smiling, honey
my rims are very charming and my leather seats are comfy
gucci major money shawty i get crazy cloudy
have a baby by me probly maybe i’ll buy you an audi
maui wowie, stupid cloudy, loudy got me rowdy rowdy
chevy caprice 73 play master p im bout it bout it
prints color mariah carey, if Nick Cannon ask about it
tell em that big gucci said it, so icey get stupid with it
drop top be, passenger seat celebrity
seven chains on so gucci mane shining heavily
cocaine heavenly, soft white prejudice
all white bricks same color as my necklace

7. She Got a Friend
9-1-1 emergency!
drop top benz is burgundy
yo girl has just been stolen from you
call that shit a burglary
hard top lambo earlier
drop top beemer later doe
chevy vette with stupid feet
got yo wife in bucket seats
stupid crib and stupid bid
gucci mane is how i live
so icey is what i am but hes not who he say he is
think a minute
maybe i get money every single minute
even when im sleepin money climbin creepin makin interest
said she got a boyfriend
but he aint the kid tho
neck cold wrist cold
diamonds in my earlobe
dom p for breakfast
rose for lunch
cristal for dinner
appetizer, 30 blunts

6. 30 Inches Rmx
Girl please!
Chevy so high baby do you see the trees?
Crawlin down the block 30s slidin like skis
look so sweet gucci mane can roll weed
71 caprice taller than my hum vee
fine red bone, best friend back seat
and then we double datin make them both date me
30 inches, chains makin haters hate me
east Atlanta day everybody looking
flashback triple gold d’s 17s
chickens on the scene I was just 15
big car, big rims all mounting
on somethin clean,
somethin yall ain’t seen.

5. Time to Eat
The Porsche porcelain
the rims are gorgeous
the earth went skrrt
it got so many horses
an all-white chain same color yo forces
an ounce a what i smoke cost double your mortgage
so icey entertainment
ima explain it
see when we come in niggas tuck in they chain, and
- i lost my train of thought bitches callin me brainless
i cant buy a burger cuz im too fuckin famous
my whip on a donk, give my chevy a facelift
my 28 ashantis make it look like a spaceship
my rims look big like the lips on fantasia
my paint drips wet like activator
you playin with yaself you a masturbator
ya play with so icey i have to spray ya
dont waste all ya life bein a couch potato
after awhile crocodile see ya later, hater
its guc-ci

4. Hurry
Gucci got a warrant how da fuck I get subpoenaed?
objection whats the objection your honor I’m a genius
13 years old got my jordans in da cleaners
like lil scrappy rockin fila’s
in the club sho nuff like Tela (Gucci)
black and white chain in da libra like a zebra
this not your everday ordinary fuckin beemer
dis is no part of da seven dis a moss one cost a mean one got my top back for my grandma got my beater for aaliyah
its me and my money and my diamonds man we a trio
and no disrespect to ne-yo
but this gucci mane da sosa
and my albino testarossa
bout da color of the ocean
its gucci mane da flare
and my bank account is rollin is you rollin

3. First Day Out
im startin off my day with a blunt of purp
no pancakes just a cup of syrup
baking soda pot and a silver fork
you already know it’s time to go to work
i’m back off in the kitchen workin with a chicken
you get 63 grams for like 12 50
50 pounds of purp, 50 pounds of midget
as soon as it’s gone i sell another 60
my baby need some shoes, my auntie need a purse
summer comin real soon so i need a vert
i hop up out that van with that duffle bag
and if a nigga try me ima bust his ass
im countin up money in my living room
birds everywhere i call it the chicken room
pills in the cabinet, pounds in the den
attic full of good, basement full of benjamins
two ak-47s and a blow torch
couple junkies knockin hard on my front porch
a couple old schools in my backyard
if i dont know you ima serve you through my burglar bars
gucci back bitch, yeah im back bitch
did you miss me? or miss my raps bitch
this that new shit, that county jail shit
that seventh floor, rice street straight out of cell shit
you on my shit list, im on the forbes list
since im a rich nigga, i need a rich bitch
i got a sick wrist, it cost bout six bricks
im on that slick shit, that zone 6 shit

2. Frowney Face (1st verse)
they tried to wet me up, shot up my truck in east atlanta
wanna set me up because i tricked this nigga in savannah
they put some money on my head i had to move to alabama
started pumpin with my cousin mixin caine with arm & hammer
somebody bloodied my face badly my last visit to the slammer
but they put me in the hole because i beat him like a hammer
they shooter shot my nigga juice a couple times over by gresham
wish i went there just to help him, he pushed on so i respect him
the ?? the fortune and the fame deep in the game me and my gang
behind the rush to get my record they tried to murk me for my chain
put tear drops under my eye cuz sometimes i wish i could cry
but to lose my self respect my nigga i would rather die

1. Wonderful (1st verse)
red bezel on my jacob looking like a sliced tomato
fuck a hater i blow acres of jamaica in decatur
im so extraordinary while my bracelet so canary
choppers that my niggas carry probably scare the military
half your budget spent on luggage, spent your mortgage on a portrait
purple bud look like an orchid, cant afford it? watch me torch it
tell your shorty, gucci at her birthday party, cost a 40
this imported foreign flying saucer make me feel important
tell big booty gina from virginia if you ever see her
i remember last november and i can’t wait till the sequel
where’s my equal? i don’t see him, never met him, never meet him
if i meet him, i’ma greet him, beat him, eat him up and leave him

intro/#shots
10-1

This is not a top 25 songs list, its a top 25 verses list. & we tried to get a good variety of styles & approaches. Classical did not make the list because its a song clowning folks who are looking for lyrical miracles & his hyperarticulating is part of the joke (as is the chorale singing “gu-hu-hu-chi”), plus its actually not that entertaining when yr following along with what hes saying — more a technical exercise.

For what its worth, we never claimed Gucci was on some next level philosophical shit — hes just a good lyricist in the vein of Bun’s “we three, me C and Master P, sippin on Gin and Kiwi”-type memorable, visceral imagery & inventive rhyming.

Thanx to Jordan & Taharka AKA HAM CITY for contributing.

njoy/argue/post better lyrics in the comments. this can start discussion not end it & isnt meant to be definitive, he released a lot of shit! Sorry if some of these were recorded before 2009 but they only became widely available then. Make transcription corrections in the comments too, we could have been perfectionists but then this wouldn’t come out for another couple months, esp since my laptop just pulled a noz’s & died.

25. Ain’t Nothin Else to Do
I’m jumpin out the lemon like im posin for a grammy
diamonds dancin got em glancin phantom parked outside my mansion
you cant manage money dammit and your cheese will surely vanish
im so handsome, healthy, smart feel that i have an advantage
warfare i know how to handle it, i dont panic i do damage
fancy footwear on ferraris make the felines get real mannish
my connect first language spanish his english, cant understand it
im a trap money fanatic i feel these bustas pathetic
you ride gucci you regret it whats my equal never met him
if i met him ima press him unexpected i’m a felon
pockets swellin my lil wrist is like a drop-top 9/11
get some money my suggestion, gucci mane the livin legend

24. Good Money, 1st verse
the lam is where the glock is, wrist is where the rocks is
kush so loud you can smell the shit in knoxville
you try gucci mane, no deal, no grill
eatin oatmeal how you live for the next year
goons on thrill, best chill, you won’t live
won’t be here, i’ll be on mtv cribs
my top goin forward but car on stand still
rims goin forward but the coupe just stay here
caviar guts in my hard top, millionaire,
young trillionaire, icy as a frigidare
car, bought another, he just fell like a ballplayer
no i’m not a ballplayer, i’m just a tall plaaayyyyer

23. I Got Em
i got her wasted, intoxicated
lil mama geeked
got her gone on that stupid skrong
i know she a freak
gucci homies like cheech and chong
please pass me that bong
go along you just rollin wrong
kush is my cologne
and so icey is my coalition
1017 my clique
and my watch cost bout a bentley and my ring cost bout a brick
i got 30 niggas with me so you know my hood is thick
and we gone off pills and liquor brick squad niggas in this bitch
herb, gucci mane murders words polo like a nerd, word, my rings cost a whole bird
smokin on that strong purp, get gone, gucci known, what the fuck was drama on
comma comma comma comma commas keep on comin on

22. My Shadow (2nd verse)
i got a bolo under my polo, i’m out on promo
i got these tear drops under my izz-eye don’t make it one mo
and i got kilos, one for the two-oh that was like oh-fo
i had drizzle, yup bags of smizzle, but keep it low-low
can’t tell the po-po, i’m friends with fizol, cuz that’s a no-no
smoke this guido, me and my vatos, but yous a bozo
my fans so loyal, down till i blizzow, this shit like Waco
i got candy… paint on my cell phone, your shit from maaco
i’m out the tizzop, connect the dizzots, i’m buildin legos
and this shizzam just like a waffle, i call it eggos
i’m got those hundos off in my pocket, a stupid bank roll
and if you try me, the coroner gon wrap ya, just like a egg roll

21. Beat It Up (verse 3)
Gucci, trey songz, put it on
my shirt off when i perform
she say this her favorite song
she got on my favorite thong
she so hot, too hot to touch
truthfully too much for lames
gucci mane i’m extra game
so extra rubbers ima bring
got yo main thang screamin gucci
every tuesday night we do it
wish we could do it more often
but i’m often somewhere flossin
lay it down like carpet, barbie
aston martin, double park it
beat it like we got a problem
pop it till she call me poppa
freakin partners probly never bother with a second option
hoppin, got the mattress poppin, rockin while her girlfriend watchin
freakin partners probly never bother with a second option
hoppin, got the mattress poppin, rockin while her girlfriend watchin gucci!

20. I Think I Want Her
yall ball when you can but i stunt when i wanna
your girlfriend wanna fuck me… i think we’re gonna
marijuana got my beemer foggy as a sauna
i’m gucci mane la flare bitch i’m such a prima donna
i’m east atlanta shawty but i hang where i wanna
got a plug in arizona but used to slang on the corner
got a [??] lookin chick i ride her like winona
i’ll text my city plenty when she come from california
you are not the owner of that car it is a loaner
got money stacks as tall as you cuz that’s just my persona
got half a million on my neck so try me if you wanna
keep a shooter with a chopper turn you to an organ donor

19. HATE U rmx
yellow like my lamborghini, got her in a red bikini
so much money make a wish, i can be your dream of genie
many plenty women dig me, so much jewelry they should clone me
got her girlfriends hatin on me that she can’t wait to leave me lonely
phantoms in atlanta, madam
damn we such a major tandem
essent’ oils or scented candles, leave me you be crazy baby
me, you can go crazy places
fly you, buy you crazy bracelets
lately i’ve been workin crazy, i know that you waitin patient
bed at night you think of me, if i was you ???
always out there chasin money, i feel you ironically
gucci mane make money ski, all these boys be hatin on me
i thought you’d stay down with me, you got me back in the street

18. Gingerbread Man (1st verse)
i’mma keep droppin verses hotter than the hottest summer
eatin rappers like jeffrey dahmer
dope color sinead o connor
should i name another woman?
rushin like president obama
warner brought 2 extra commas
all my shoes are ferragamo
lightning ice, you hear the thunder
even stevie wonder wonder
why your baby mama call so much i had to change my number
sarcasm! these bitches need a ride or i’d pass em
i wouldn’t even give that bitch an orgasm
miraculously my niggas stand beside and not in back of me
so disrespect my faculty? how dare you have audacity
the club packed to capacity
i catch her automatically
i spit these rhymes erratically, sporadically
fatality.

17. Crime Wave Rmx
i push white rocks behind my burglar bars
i hired myself to be my shooter so im self-employed
and i am very paranoid
but beef i don’t avoid
if i catch you slippin bitch then ima catch another charge
i got a premonition ima need more ammunition
and aint no opposition once i kill all competition
from the genesis to exodus im soaked in metal ish
like a gypsy i predicted killin, im a pessimist
from zone 6 on back to queens, all way back to zone 6
fore a hater try to kill, he’ll cut off his own dick
so choose which way you wanna die cuz i know 99 ways
i done [???] from gucci, i just ride the crime wave–

16. Steady Mobbin’
what the fuck is up? it’s gucci mane the G
that’s tity boy, no pity boy, but scarcity the city boy
so icey so no likey but just gucci, louie, prada
scuse me
gucci mane keep shittin on me, why that boy keep buyin jewelry
east atlanta cockin hammers, bandannas on car antennas
no we do not talk to strangers, just cut off these niggas fingers
gucci’s armed and dangerous, cocaine, codeine and angel dust
this AK47 will hit you anywhere from the ankle up
clip same size as nia long, clip long as a pringles can
four-five desert eagle on me, you’ll think i’m an eagles fan
toni braxton sniper rifle make you never breathe again
fuck that nigga, kill that nigga, bring him back, kill him again

15. Trap Goin Crazy (1st Verse)
atlanta put your fingers up, bangin’ like a center
my diamond niggas swingin like the thriller in manilla
index look like christmas, pinky cold as winter
see the frozen crystals when i hit the cigarillo
remember i’m a genius, nah like washington a wizard
not from pittsburgh, pa but your girl i might just steeler
in my red ferrari, sittin on spinners, tinted windows
blinkin like a blinker, on the seats are my initials
probably see me, you could see me, with this puerta rican groupie
blue bikini, if you like ‘em cheatin’? cause i’m trick or treatin’
sittin on skinnys in my lambourghini while you dream of genie
as i’m leanin and my carats gleamin and the sun is beamin

14. Hustler’s Anthem Rmx
i muscle like russell, im icy like busta
dont bring your girl around gucci cuz i might fuck her
so icey boy baby everything groovy
hat to the shoes baby everything gucci
twelve seater, two seater, in case i feel coupeless
eazy e drop top i call the car roofless
rap star ice but a trap star life
40 in my left and right in case i wanna roll dice
50 in my back take a rock star wife
big cheese, long bread
wanna have a food fight?
anytime, any place, we could have a money fight
quarter mill, two days, four shows, three flights
gucci mane and busta, boy dj play it loud
jewelry so loud i think we need to turn it down
a-town hawks shit, new york knicks shit
busta rhymes, it’s gucci and i’m still on zone 6 shit

13. Awesome (2nd verse)
so icy is my company and millions made monthly
managed by my aunt-y, i make a lotta currency
currently increasing g’s, you keep interrupting me (shh!!)
i grinded, grinded, one day blew up suddenly
you must have a low self esteem you keep on hatin on me
girlfriend keep on datin me, she say she like the thug in me
marijuana drug in me, purple codeine drug in me,
ecstasy, liquor sippin, you dont gotta fuck wit me
dont you think a what can be, homeboy he a bug-a-boo
you just a lil nut to me, sold ya like a crush decree (??????????)
awesome paint job on my benz, smoke gray on them silver things
no, this is not a dream, lil mama come join my team

12. Posted at the Store
now the cookie cutter cut the butter
stutter just like duh-duh man
now the carpet [???] man is swarmin in and say i’m drug loiterin
smokin on a stem or you smokin on a coke can
still got the party pack so go and have a party man
flat shoals or bouldercrest so call me the sun valley man
98 caprice and it’s sounding like the marching band
see i pack it in like pakistan or soldiers in afghanistan
it’s gucci man the african and i’m a black republican
see my watch is frosted flakes and my chain is tucan sam
call me gucci man, dont call me sam i come from birmingham
thats my alabama, atlanta, ridin in a phantom
purple in my purple phantom smokin the green marijuana
and the aroma from the arizona stronger than ammonia
call me gucci man i’m lookin at your baby girl, i’m on ya
cuz i want ya and i gotcha, gotcha right where i want ya
the aroma from the arizona stronger than ammonia

11. Beat It Up (1st Verse)
hop out my bed, turn my swag on
scrambled eggs, filet mignon
two g’s blown just for cologne
money never limited, so icey with benefits
my driveway need a passport, all my cars are immigrants
ech! it’s so sickening, history you’re witnessing
i had her cuz she quit me, now i’m single wanna get with me?
sticky game, they stick to me, if you see your chick with gucci
think before confronting, ruling, it ain’t my fault your lady choosin
430s still blowing purpy, 08 verty rollin dirty
wardrobe clean as dish detergent, got yo girlfriend pickin purses
say she lonely, gucci only, one wish to meet me in person
when she met me, hugged my neck, and told me that she love my verses

10-1
25-11

You may have noticed that here at Somanyshrimp, we run on an ancient historical calender that believes the beginning of the year starts sometime around February, or whenever we get around to it. Thus a year end ’09 mix arriving in Feb. 2010, and our last actual Gucci feature post, the 30 Best Gucci Mane Tracks of 2008, turned up in early Feb. ’09.

Since we made that post, a bunch of shit has changed when folks talk about Gucci Mane. I.E., they actually talk about him — choice quote from our ’08 roundup — “Id just like to be having any serious discussion at all.” The amount of discussion about dude skyrocketed — and it helped that he dropped what Noz pointed out was a Tribe Called Quest career’s worth of music in a few short months, never mind a major label record, a series of videos, several major charting singles as both primary & guest artist.

At the level of internet rap nerd discourse, there was a bunch of talk about him too. An ugly common-sense consensus emerged: Gucci Mane was being hyped by blogs, his buzz blown out of proportion to his regional popularity in the southeast, aided by ironic white hipsters with racially suspect motivations overwriting overdone thinkpieces to blow up an at-best nominally talented “lowest common denominator” rapper on some offensive Wesley Willis-style mocking condescension. Psuedo intellectuals doing mental backflips to prop up the critical profile of a rudimentary short bus remedial rapper that was doing nothing better than degrading the public profile of African Americans.

To be absolutely clear — what the black community has to say about Gucci Mane’s impact on their public perception is not something I purport to have any authority or input on, at least as it relates to the internal dialogue of the community. My purpose is not to inveigh on the significance of gangster rap in the undoubtedly negative imagery it propagandizes at some level.

I can speak only to why I bothered even listening to his shit in the first place, & ask that you take my motivations at my word, just out of respect for real actual discourse: there is no ‘laughing at’ going on, there is no condescension, Gucci is funny in an intentional, ironic (meaning HE is being ironic — i.e. “I THINK I LUV HER!!” — not that my appreciation is ironic) and worthwhile way. The idea that I’m riding for dude because he sounds “retarded,” on some sub-Kells racial caricaturization, is simply incorrect (& in fact, there is an uncomfortable tendency from his haters to bring the ‘retarded’ epithet with alarming frequency). Of course he’s got a ‘dumb’ flow — an artistic stylistic performance/affect, though, not an evaluation of the ‘outsider genius’ or some other such bullshit.

Anyway, at this point I’m probably preaching to the converted with this, and if you’ve heard me argue in a cocaine blunts comments section then you’ve heard this before. So Im done defending my own motives. But I think its instructive to look at the mythic level to which folks have blown up the mysterious group of ironic white Gucci promoters supposedly behind his huge blog buzz. This supposed conspiratorial gang is mostly po-mo overwriting music critics, although the only Gucci boosters in the Pazz & Jop poll this year were basically the 1st-wave rap bloggers — myself, Al Shipley from Governmentnames, Noz of course, plus Jordan (from this blog) & some dude from Cokemachineglow I think who voted for a Gucci tape that actually dropped in 2008. Sean Fennessy linked to this blog & gave general appreciation for Gucci’s work, but ranked him behind Drake & well outside of his own top ten. Then you had Tom Breihan (a reader of this blog), who also wrote the Gucci review for pitchfork — an appreciably even-handed account of a divisive artist. Pitchfork’s year-end list, “surprisingly Gucci Mane free” as Byron put it, suggested even further that the supposed huge blog-hype around Gucci Mane was nothing more than a fiction — other than “Shine Blockas,” which has negligable Gucci contributions (is that even in his top 50 verses this year?) and was an Outkast collab with a soul sample folks inexplicably kept comparing to “International Players Anthem,” Pitchfork only voted (after considerable boosterism from myself & Tom) for “Wasted,” a top 40 hit that barely scraped Pitchfork’s top 100. So much for that conspiracy.

So who exactly is this mysterious cabal of ironic Gucci boosters? Maybe we should look at Diplo, whose self-helmed tape of remixes attempted to cross the rapper over to the hip white kid crowd with less than successful results. A casual browse through the Low Bee forum of post-Hollertronix fan-DJs suggests pretty much negligable appreciation for anything that doesnt qualify as some degree of nu-rave remix when it comes to Gucci Mane, and basically no discussion about why his rapping is worthwhile.

Meanwhile, the bigger names in blogging were either posting Gucci up because they knew it developed hits (NahRight or whatever other aggregator sites), or you had media personalities like Miss Info backhandidly comparing him to Master P (“You couldn’t deny the temperature…!”) or Combat Jack observing that, hey, these guys (Gucci & OJ) kinda have some chemistry together, despite being mostly garbage! You had the dudes at Fat Lace trying to pull some the-emperor-has-no-clothes shit by saying come on, no one really thinks Gucci is any good now that his album “bombed” (in soundscans). (They also have the temerity to pull a “white kids appreciating gangster rap they cant understand!” before turning around and offering the alternative — young jeezy?? who also received the same kind of delayed canonical appreciation when he arrived.)

Anyway, enough of this bullshit. The point is, Gucci Mane wasn’t just some personality, & he certainly wasn’t being pushed primarily by blogs. In 2009, much like in 2008, he was rap’s biggest & most notable talent, flooded the streets with music for a 2nd year in a row, dropped a gang of rewindable, memorable, smart raps that had me trying to memorize entire verses for the first time since I was like 20 yrs old. They do fly by you at first — a friend couldn’t believe the “no 20s in my denim” & “can’t bring older yeller back” lines once he realized what was going on in “Lemonade” — but the kind of sociocultural power moves at play, the demonizing of a phantom bunch of white hipsters, it all pointed to yet another popular gangster rapper making rap worthwhile for folks who aren’t convinced by a real top-down media blitz like, say, Drake the GOAT. (fwiw, Drake the pop/R&B artist is a different story).

So what is so fresh about Gucci’s lyrical style? It’s the way he’s managed to figure out a method of writing so many verses by doing minor variations on a narrow slice of themes to keep things vibrant. If you imagine a Gucci archetype — a track about ice, and cars, and girls, where he says “burr” and the basic Gucci lines like “higher than an owl,” you might think “yeah this guy is generic.” If you listen to more than that, you get this feeling that his is the art of endless variety — that there are a thousand ways to play with “higher than an…” (eagle on california reefer) (mountain lion) (pelican) (skyscraper) (giraffe pussy) (do you see the trees??). Or “press the button, roof turn into nothin” “eazy e drop top, call the car roofless,” “panoramic roof clearer than a cup of water.” He cycles through all these different lyrical themes w/ endless possibility for variety. His ‘dumb flow’ is just panache, letting these kinds of clever lyrics in without having turn his flow into some super-technical overwritten Slaughterhouse-style garbage (mea culpa — I’m a Royce/Crooked I fan). His verses are really tight, & his best ones avoid unneccessary verbiage — his ‘dumb’ delivery actually lets him get away with say more, since he can fit more ideas into a shorter amount of space. & the way this style works almost improvisationally has really upped the bar in terms of productivity for other rappers (poor Gorilla Zoe). So Gucci can release so much material, and have it all be entirely listenable.

When a track — like say the real-talk written verses of “Frowney Face” — breaks the mold entirely, it makes the songs sound even more refreshing than they would otherwise. Like when he goes for a story track on “Timothy.” And sometimes his best verses don’t look quite as great on paper, but sound amazing when actually rapped, like his later “Beat It Up” verse: “Freakin partners probly never bother with a second option.” That kind of syllable play is some gold mine shit.

No doubt (word count: 1410 & counting) some haterz are gonna use this as yet another example of ‘overwriting’ about a retard (sigh) who totally doesnt deserve this. Oh well. You’ll figure it out some day.

List tomorrow.

Check that shit.