Unless you happen to catch LeBron James displaying his piece before a pre-game shoot around, there aren’t too many diamond-encrusted Roc-A-Fella chains to be seen these days. Add in the barbs from former CEO Damon Dash and Kanye West‘s emergence as a bona fide superstar, and it becomes clear that the house ‘Hov built is far from the dynasty it once was. Although he lacked the crossover appeal of West and Cam’ron [click to read], Freeway used two Def Jam albums to prove himself a surprisingly talented artist on a roster filled with platinum-selling peers. With likely a fraction of his former budget, “Freezer” returns on Real Talk Records. Lacking both the big name features and producers of his first two albums, Philadelphia Freeway 2 is a sequel in name only.

Much like the previous profession he so often rhymes about, Freeway knows both his limitations and how to stretch a buck. On tracks like “Heads Up,” he displays a more versatile flow and sounds like he’s having plenty of fun. And as far as uptempo material goes, the Ice Cube [click to read] inspired, “It’s A Good Day” is clearly one of the album’s highlights. Clocking in at around 45 minutes, Free keeps it short, which is good since he’s got a high-pitched voice and his subject matter is primarily limited to the drug game and its associated spoils and pitfalls. Of course, if you’re a fan of Freeway, this is not a problem, as he rhymes about the trappings of trapping virtually better than anyone not named Malice or Pusha T.

The mix of futuristic synth and traditional East Coast kick, snare, hi-hat combos of Just Blaze and Needlz are gone. Producers Hollis and Vince V. do their best to recapture this, and they do a superior job at times. One of Free‘s staples has always been balancing these type of tracks with the occasional club offering (“Flipside,” “Roc-A-Fella Billionaires”) and slower songs which both pay homage to Philadelphia Soul staples like Gamble and Huff while showcasing a rare vulnerability. Unfortunately, Free‘s new boardsmen lack the versatility to give him a backdrop such as “Victim of the Ghetto” or even last album’s “Baby Don’t Do It.”

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Despite this flaw, Freeway still offers the type of detail that is arguably too raw and self-deprecating to be fiction. Much like his mentor Jay-Z, he has consistently shown an ability to highlight the drawbacks associated with hustling. An exchange with an strung-out uncle on “Crack Rap” produces one of those moments that is shocking, cringe-inducing and funny all at once, as Free rhymes, “He like I’m not trying to lecture you / but we family I need the hookup / I’m like man you messin’ your life up / he like I can’t help it I’m addicted to the cookup / it’s fucked up / if I don’t get it from you / then I’ma get it from the next motherfucker with the hook up.” The verse hardly rhymes, but who cares? This is the kind of brutal honesty that your average Bentley-renting rapper posing as a former drug dealer wouldn’t dare go near.

As long as emcees can turn a profit by rapping about turning five into eight, Freeway‘s raw emotion and underrated delivery will make him a favorite of (t)rap fans from every region. With what one can assume was a shoestring budget, Freeway wills his album to above average status but not much more. Newcomers would be better served dropping $12 on Philadelphia Freeway or Free At Last [click to read] for a proper introduction to the last member of the original Roc-A-Fella camp.