No Politics. No B.S.
Just dropped from Krizzle himself; the second cut from his debut album, Live From The Underground. Has the durty south rhymes, production, and block-beating bass that you’d expect from him, and an energetic hook to boot. Stream it below.
STREAM: Yeah Dats Me
Quick update by Beezy with his Hip Hop Minute.
Last night, DEHH experienced a terrible tragedy as all of our equipment was stolen. Because of this, we are temporarily postponing new production work on the show. We will release what footage we do have while we continue to figure out the road ahead. Many of you have offered to donate to help us replace the equipment. We appreciate your support and any contribution you can make. Please use the link above to donate so that we can purchase more equipment and get back to work as soon as possible.
While there is an apparent concept to the tape, these beats are compelling outside of any extra cohesive element. The intro “King of the Jungle” opens with ambient wildlife, interrupted by a pronounced live drum set a slightly ominous organ riff and intruding electronic drone. “Sunrise” alleviates the tension with MPC-style percussion, a vibrant bassline and this icy, phasing sample that flutters the eardrum incessantly. Naanasin’s take on Miami Bass in “Lets Be Free” could not be named any more appropriately, with the nonchalant snare-heavy percussion, disruptive electro and that glorious bass all waxing and waning in charge and intensity.
“The Hunt,” his attempt at a drum & bass style in a hip hop format, is one of the noticeable achievements of the beat-tape. It not only proves the amount of work Nannasin put in to create it within his own artistic design, but also the amount of responsibility he assumes in advancing hip hop as a genre. Sure, this song has a familiar set of tools, with its airy Gothic synths, crispy and lean drum breakdown and deep, guttural bass surging nonstop, but tools mean nothing until they are put to good use.
If anything can be said to its detriment, it might be the lack of an MC willing to spit on such superior and defined production. They might feel intimidated. But the time will come, as “XX” is experimental hip hop in a similar vein to Shabazz Palace’s “Black Up,” striving to break the blinged-out and weed-clouded confines of contemporary hip hop beatmaking for more creative pastures. Hopefully the wait is brief.
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.