Louisiana has a solid history of hip-hop artists dating back to the late 90’s, when the rap landscape was pretty barren of anything redeemable. When Ja Rule was at the top of the charts it was a very sad time in hip-hop, but there were a few great artists coming out of New Orleans: Juvenile and Mystikal. Neither artist was perfect, but both (particularly Mystikal) were using the sounds of their surroundings to do something interesting in hip-hop. Lil’ Wayne carried the New Orleans torch following those two, to even larger success. Is the next great Louisiana (I say Louisiana because Gates is actually from Baton Rouge) rapper going to be Kevin Gates? Maybe.
Continue reading “Kevin Gates Song Review: “4:30””
I hate Drake. I don’t hate Drake because he is a marginally-talented-ass-clown who can’t write lyrics and has a shitty flow. I hate Drake because he is a marginally-talented-ass-clown who can’t write lyrics, has a shitty flow AND consistently pollutes some of the better beats and potential guest spots in the game merely by his presence. Drake is the President’s Day of Holidays. Drake is the Kia Sedan of automobiles. Drake is the prescription painkillers of illicit narcotics use. In almost all situations, Drake is the milquetoast cousin of what is good and right with the world. He flows like rancid syrup, and sings like he wants to be the soundtrack for a middle-schooler’s first handy (just like the Degrassi-alumni that he will always be). As a further note, Drake refers to himself as Drizzy occasionally. Spoiler alert: This goes over about as poorly as you think it would.
Continue reading “Drake Review: A Bucket of Yuck…mostly”