When he does step out of his zone, his temperament--hood and Memphis to the core--feels out of place. But luckily for Gotti fans, these moments of mediocrity are brief. On the majority of I Am, he stays rooted in the ideas and melodies that he’s been refining since he first dropped From Da Dope Game 2 Da Rap Game over 10 year ago.

There is a lot of content geared towards the party, bullshit and get money topics that are present in rap culture. However, the production (which is mostly done by Bobby Ray) evokes a deeper appreciation for his music as a whole.

MellowHigh has its thrills with some credit going to Earl’s playful verse on “Cold World,” but too often the album feels stagnant.

He simply doesn’t provide enough flash to continue his meteoric ascent toward becoming an independently viable brand.

There’s just too much ambition and not enough energy to support Event II fully. Planet Deltron used to be more fun.

Self Made Vol. 3 won’t silence the haters of Rick Ross’ MMG movement, and it certainly does not break the mold of previous iterations in the series. However, the album’s hits should have a lasting impact, serving as jump off points for several of the artists on the label.

He’s perfected his lane, but he hasn’t pushed anything forward or changed anything significantly.

Rich Gang is not especially lyrical, but that’s not really a shocker; its strengths lie more in its hooks and club appeal, and it’s fully stocked with tracks that demand to be played at ear-shattering and floor-shaking volumes.

Like Soul Food, Age Against The Machine tries to succeed in being different and innovative. At times, the results are disastrous, but the album always remains interesting.

The problem with Ferg’s swag raps, though, is that like any party (or after-party) that goes on for too long, it ends up just feeling overwrought and repetitive.

He treats this debut album like a retail mixtape, and the result is a project that picks off from where The Luca Brasi Story left off. Unfortunately, these high points aren’t enough for him here to progress further.

The album never reaches jaw-dropping levels because the envelope’s never pushed, but that’s not the point. Albert Einstein is about two artists doing what they do best, and for one of them, it’s a return to form.

If you’re willing adjust to a less joyful Guwop, there are actually some great things happening on Trap House III.

Ace is still aiming for the club on certain tracks. His enthusiasm and rapid-fire flow sound at home over the menacing summer jam “Bugatti” with the warbling hook of Future or on the triumphant “We Outchea”. But on other tracks, like the flimsy Chris Brown-assisted “Rider,” he comes off clumsy and out of place.

It is simply an album that lacks a clear perspective on the many heavy topics it tackles. A first time listener may walk away feeling very familiar with Freddie Gibbs’ sound, but still unsure of who exactly he is.

While BS may not exhibit the growth sonically or conceptually that fans may have anticipated after hearing Cole’s early work, he remains too gifted lyrically, too keen of a storyteller, and too emotionally open for his sophomore LP to be anything less than impressive, but not overly so.

ll in all, the project is a welcome addition to the D-Block rapper’s catalogue, though it’s narrow vision holds the album back from reaching any great heights.

Excuse My French is a good album, possibly the best one the Coke Boy could make.

Despite using a familiar formula, Havoc’s beats never sound too dated here; new techniques in his repertoire, such as using more melodic synths and complicated drum arrangements, keep things sounding fresh. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for his lyrics.

It truly sounds like a vintage New York hip-hop album, and it’ll appeal to those still looking for that. On the flip side, the production is so outdated you can’t help but think that these songs have literally just been sitting around this whole time.

Indicud is an at-times very good album, but it’s certainly no 2001. This isn’t because of a lack of ingenuity or creativity on Cudi’s part, but rather because the decision to act as the project’s sole producer didn’t do him any favors.

It takes fewer risks than Careless World and as a result there are less payoffs.

Pac Div was hoping to achieve a harder sound with GMB, and when it comes to the tongue-in-cheek "Bank," "Sneakerboxes," which features Chip Gnarly & Big Silk, and "Debo," they certainly get there. But it is when they take a more casual approach to their sound, as on "Slow," which sounds like a club anthem lost at a children's party, or the aimlessly catchy "Can't Help It," that they reach heights only attained by Superman.

Although D4 will not be celebrated as much some of his other work, he does reminds all why Hova considered sending "D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune)" to "the Mixtape Weezy."

On Finally Rich he continues to execute a his niche sound, and at a high level.

While God of the Serengeti doesn't blaze any new ground, it is a release that will hold up to the Paz's legacy on the underground scene and will surely satisfy long-time fans.

What works for Wiz is crafting similar songs to perfect the Taylor Gang aesthetic.

While the tides of hip-hop may be in flux, and the release might not break any new ground, the collaborative LP is a genuine and welcomed addition to the modern hip-hop landscape.