A lack of direction is not the worst part about this tape. Beyond that is Chip himself, and the truly boring work he put together for this project. The majority of these songs consist of eclectic and neatly produced instrumental vehicles, weighed down by Chip’s redundant and uninspired lyrics about the usual revelry and nonchalant lifestyle desired by black bachelors, and thrown every which way by his sluggishly haphazard flow. This situation quickly grinds out any base enjoyment to be had from this mixtape, of which there is some.
The song “Cactus” has Chip in his most alert and potent state, having fun with the subject matter despite actually using some technicality in his rhymes: “floatin’ to another destination respiratin’ vapors coming from a volcanic eruption, roll up son,” and being well endowed by the murky, ambient synths and an aggressive electro section in the chorus. Another notable upside is his effective approach to an interactive hook on the otherwise shallow “Boomshakala”: “40 on me, break you off papa/and even got the cocka just boomshakalaka/yeah i’m a young cold motherf*cker/put the hammer out and rock it like boomshakalaka.”
Outside of those few pockets of goodness, the mixtape really, really drags on with no true purpose. The intro track “Good Evening” is just a loosely connected stream of self-assured boasts concerning his new car (leased in his girl’s name) and his prowess at getting “ho’s” in his car six at a time, centered around a dumb hook. Also, “25 Wives” is rather iconic of Chip’s obsession with personally distraught women who need to anchor themselves around a man, preferably a swagged-out goon such as himself. And yes, despite reducing every woman to a blown-up derriere and a nice set of lips named “bitch,” he still considers cheating as a viable option in this Mormonic fantasy.
In fact, the most misogynistic and laziest pothole on “Tell Ya Friends” is the Hip Hop World Star-inspired travesty that is “Be a Model,” where he retells the incident of an 18-year-old caught performing fellatio on camera for fame. Chip then railroads that already trashy plot line by getting that girl and her friend in his hotel room, all of this delivered as if he is reading off a grocery list.
Luxury rap can be tolerated when performed with conviction, but Chip Tha Ripper fails to give any on this 22-track snooze-fest. His collaborations with Curren$y haven’t seemed to influence his work, and even Kid Cudi, who is a guest feature on the tape, sounds way better with the similar set of tools due to his own personal quirks. Chip simply lacks any attention-grabbing character on this tape, and we should probably tell our friends to avoid this at all costs.