lil keke ft. z-ro and trae - da don, ro and trae -- collection of somber houston realness. grim old thirty two year old men with been up all night deep voice, working off rap credibility and street credibility. spelling everything out on, z-ro spokenword fog horn hook: da don, ro and traeeee, takin over the rap game and connectin, i change everythin...we serious and we don't play... these hoes know we got women at home but still fuck with us anywayyyys. rapping as clear as possible on hot, cheap horns. and then, obviously, killing it with same old ro verse you heard over and over, talking incredulous and fatalist: when i wake up in the morning the first thing i do is roll me up one / and prepare myself to deal with bitch niggas in case i have to touch one / it don't matter cause i love war, from where prositutes and the drugs are / fuck me with or my kinfolk trae, your face is where my slugs are.

baby ft. lil wayne - neck of the woods -- new baby solo, new source cover story with those vague, disinterested questions: you're NOT REALLY a rapper, right? isn't that IRONIC? remember the hot boys? when are they putting out another album? you got a helicopter, right? and his vague, disinterested answers. but ridiculous pictures of him posing in his driveway with a diamond-grilled stuffed gator on a diamond leash. fat cherub face crying in red and green, draped in fake ice. and this, first single, i guess. drifting back from breeeezy big tymers with r. kelly in the video, mannie chasing after girls on white sand beaches, dropped matte red exts thru miami. that new, delicate, expensive sound from the carter, baby singing out the hook for windows down summer dusky cruise down the north service road, past spraywashes, electronics liquidation warehouses, discount carpet galleries, rv dealerships. and wayne wayne wayne wayne taking over every verse except a birdman interlude in the middle, doing that next level weezy, quoting nyc classics again (ALL I HEARD WAS JEEZY DON'T KILL ME NO MORRRRRRE), croaking half the hook. prepared for summery dusty cash money classic video with driveby shots of white tees on corners, kids playing in fire hydrant spray, america's most wanted recreations of drug transactions intercut with baby rapping out the window of a limo tint/24s/flared nostril hoodscoops magnum, closing with that shot of baby coming thru a hundred deep in triangle formation.

young jeezy ft. jagged edge - quit actin -- this is beautiful. jeezy applying that boring specific trap reference shit and the goofy punchlines to slick thug luv track. abandoning that flow and just easing into it all overawkward, talking soft and stupid over that bleepwhimpering beat. jagged edge talking almost filthier than jeezy about they wanna beat it up, jeezy dropping bigsmile pretty lines about smoking sweets in the moonlight, never have i heard my name in that many tones, taking her out for a big breakfast in the morning. (mp3)