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Flo Rida boasts an adroit double-timed flow, but his greatest achievement is his understanding of how to stay in the background, never overwhelming the electro-laced tracks.
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You won't leave R.O.O.T.S. knowing much about Dillard the man, but you'll probably think Rida the rapper is an excellent--if eventually exhausting--party guest.
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R.O.O.T.S. is a solidification of identity. And when you’re trying to keep yourself in the game, sometimes that’s all a sophomore album has to be.
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As he did on last year's "Mail on Sunday," Flo Rida spends most of these 13 pop-rap confections pondering the finer points of his growing bank account and his incomparable way with women. The best cuts are those that mirror the MC's usual themes with even more familiar sounds.
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The unsurprisingly inconsistent R.O.O.T.S. is hip-hop like Nas never happened, a flash or fodder album owing more to Lady GaGa than to Public Enemy.
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The problem is that he shows no growth--besides realizing, along with his producers, that if you throw every hook known to man into the pop ocean, you are bound to catch something.
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His genius lies in pitching his records just right: he injects these songs with enough grit to interest hip-hop fans, without scaring the pop audiences his catchy hooks are designed to ensnare. It's ruthlessly effective, though difficult to love.
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Not once does Flo Rida overpower his reference points, making him a rarity: an entertainer wholly without ego, a phantom presence on his own songs.
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As fun as R.O.O.T.S. may be for a short while, artistically, this album is almost without merit, with pointless lyrics and over-sampling.
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R.O.O.T.S. is so crushingly flat that it should waft between the cracks unnoticed.
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Heavy on aspiration, light on inspiration on rapper's second outing.
User score distribution:
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Positive: 15 out of 41
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Mixed: 3 out of 41
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Negative: 23 out of 41
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Dec 28, 2020
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May 10, 2016
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Sep 10, 2015