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The long list of guests here indicates a record in need of some padding, but most of these names provide little more than hook fodder.
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Aside from the occasional goofy detail (“I love sandwiches after sex”), their horndog bravado provides exceedingly little in the way of memorable lines, growing numbing and interchangeable over the course of 15 tracks.
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Save a few deft meditations on the stresses of blog-rap fame ("Flickin'," "L_O_V_E"), rapper Naledge and producer Double-O also sound uninspired, squandering their boyish Ivy League enthusiasm on clichéd odes to nightclub decadence.