This is thug music at it's fonkdoobiest. Like an entry in the diary of a madman, Eiht fesses that ain't nothin changed; he's still out for the weed, still out for the money, and still about dodging the PD; same story, different drummer or drum machine grimey, greedy, hungry, still hustlin. From numero uno, when niggas with Jheri Curls was doin the gigolo, Eiht's kept 'da beat' strictly gangsta and infused his trademark tight unpretentiously raw lyrics with some intricate four-fingered axe-picking and glittering keyboarding guaranteed to make Bugs Bunny's tinkling pinkyfinger go pop while stretchin for a vial of viagra.
Jeah, once again the str8 menace blazes an aural blitzkrieg of back-beatin, ass-ripplin, spine-snappin booyaayaa to drive by and floss to, particularly on joints "The Hustle," "Keep It Movin," and "In My Town," one of the more funkier, laid-back visual simulators (of the 19, including a few hifuckinlarious but uneventful skits) that undoubtedly will compliment some serious six-fo dippin, westside pimpin with the rag slid back, tokin with a cupful of yak lodged against the nutsack like everyday. Tracks "Get Yours," featuring the penultimate pancaka (and the album's associate producer) Mack 10; "The Rah Rah Nigguhz," with fellow multi-disciplinarian journeyman and intrepid ophthalmological space oddity, Sticky Fingaz holdin the east down sicka than a snotty-nosed muthafucka knockin the neighborhood methadone clinic; and the blunt sobering ode to headstrong hoodrats, "What You Wish For," showin out the increasingly impressive thug-lifer's, Outlawz, accentuate what amounts to another productive day at the office for the seminal underground figga consistently deliverin like a hand chokin the trigga.