Remember Me’s faults definitely hold it back, but it’s still largely likeable and satisfying when it comes to simply being festive West Coast party Hip Hop.

It’s obvious Justin had quite a bit to say but sometimes, some things are just better left unsaid.

There's nothing to startle about the music or the lyrics and there's little that isn't coated with a whiff of having heard it all before.

At the end of the day, Slime Language suffers from being predictable, which is the last thing you’d ever want or expect from a Young Thug-affiliated project. The lesser-known artists don’t make much of a mark, the more notorious features are the clear highlights, and the project, as a whole, offers nothing to compete with the highs of Beautiful Thugger Girls--let alone the hallucinatory string of releases from 2015.

Dillatronic highlights the producer’s grand vision, but in the end, we’re left with pieces of what could’ve been.

Ultimately, fans looking for a solid but not necessarily classic addition to the Infamous Mobb Deep catalogue, should be satisfied with 13.

His immersion in Rastafarianism has produced a middling album, at best.

There’s no creative expansion, just two acts trying to exist in their own worlds simultaneously instead of finding a new and interesting middle ground. Mixing classic Big Boi verses over old Phantogram songs would’ve probably been just as effective.

With pitfalls and all, Wiley is still going strong as artists come and go.

Overall, the album lacks the shine and luster of the previous two Maybach Music Group compilations.

With Selling My Soul, Masta Killa seems to have winged his way through songs that are lazy and conceptually not well put together.

The trouble with Illmatic XX isn’t what you hear, but what you don’t hear. In a vacuum, it’s an unexpectedly well-preserved snapshot of Golden Era, New York Hip Hop. Sonically, it strikes the perfect balance between cleaning up the original recordings through the advent of digital remastering without eliminating subtleties such as the crackle of a needle over vinyl.

The Book of David isn't Quik's finest effort; an album reportedly done in quick fashion, doesn't truly live up to Quik standards. However, it still holds its own in the current field.

It’s when Bieber’s honesty feels less-than-honest and the tracks feel less-than-groundbreaking that this album falls short of the heights it should by all means be capable of reaching.

As it stands, EVOL is nothing out of the ordinary from his past endeavors. With no measures in place preventing from Future releasing new full-length projects, this album could easily be surpassed in a month or two.

Most of the songs on Full Speed are catchy in their own right, but on the heels of tracks that sound so much alike just now seeing their expiration on radio, the feeling is mixed at best.

While the misses hold Blacc Hollywood back from being great, Wiz still reminds listeners that regardless of what they’re looking for, he’s capable of providing.

Two Eleven, while a well-crafted and produced album, falls short by comeback standards.

Through a more respectable body of work--is unlikely to win over any naysayers.

Regardless of whether his hands are tied creatively to coded lyrics, such as “500 Homicides,” the music undoubtedly suffers as a result. But there are ephemeral periods on Remember My Name where Durk is more illuminative of his world, like “Resume.”

With his debut album he's revealed himself as bare and buffoonish.

Fan of a Fan reads like a mimicking of that, missing a key ingredient in the Pop-Rap alchemy it takes to create something truly ingenius and infectious.

While his long journey has finally paid off, Living Legend lacks it factor to have listeners clamoring for a follow-up anytime soon.

Personality aside, Chris Brown’s ability to succeed artistically at delivering sounds in all three sectors of urban Pop makes this release a great, yet disjointed listen.

A heavy knock on Church in These Streets lies in its length; at 19 tracks, a few of the hustle-hard anthems, i.e. the lackluster “Hustlaz Holiday” would have better been served for the cutting room floor. And while most of Jeezy’s signature trap sound is enjoyable, the alarm sounds of “God,” are a jolting earsore. Fortunately, moments like this are the exception.

If only its last few tracks were just as focused and compelling [as "Wake Me Up"]. Lift Your Spirit only suffers when it winds down, as it panders to Blacc’s booming audience.

Looking to make a convincing splash across the pond, Tempah offers up a hearty sample of talent and charisma with the aptly-titled debut album Disc-Overy.

Longtime fans will enjoy and support the album justly, but it will be understandably missed or ignored by many.

As a byproduct of a team that has actualized potential for groundbreaking contributions, MellowHigh misses the mark by a wide margin.

Although he’s far from a punk, the caricature we’ve come to know as Gucci Mane has shed a chunk of his unrepentant hood mentality in favor of a wiser narrator of the trap. Once he fully discovers how to convincingly put that into the music, the world had better brace itself.

With the exception of “Me & My Bitch” (a tale of two way infidelity) wedged in between a festive midsection, the Pushaz Ink crew has pieced together a well sequenced and cohesive package with My Krazy Life, but this aspect and his street credibility aren’t enough to win over naysayers expecting an overall greater performance.

Existing within that world that overlooks lyrical competence or any moral deficiencies, there are enough instances where the veteran’s effortless style starts veering too close to effort-less.

He’s returned with a slightly updated, less flawed version of 2012’s Pluto.

This 25-song compilation renders itself as a gift to the die-hard X fans that are rightfully craving anything new from the late rapper – even if it’s simply lo-fi humming over baselines for a hot second.

The Meth Lab may be Method Man’s return to solo work, but without a true connection between the tracks the album feels more like a mixtape than an album, a string of songs that range from uninspiring to a reminder that Method Man was once one of Hip Hop’s elite.

Ultimately, 03 Greedo and Kenny Beats’ Netflix & Deal contains some exciting moments, but otherwise, the short-sighted project that relies too heavily on production and features instead of Greedo’s raw and unbridled ability to tell stories.

All in all, Vultures 1 doesn’t move the needle for Kanye West — or Ty Dolla $ign, for that matter. Listeners, fans, haters and hopefuls will be in the same place they were before the album dropped: confused, disappointed, but holding onto the idea that the Kanye we all fell in love with can still deliver undeniably good music that is worth defending.

30 tracks is just indigestible and frankly unacceptable, especially with a stark lack of variety. Perhaps it’s a streaming/algorithm strategy or maybe even a way to fulfill his contract with Atlantic Records in attempts to leave the label early; either way The Last Slimeto can’t be enjoyed as a full “project” but instead a half dozen songs scattered across playlists that have the same album cover.

On what is Lil Wayne's ninth studio album, there's very little of the spontaneity you would expect from someone whose calling card is non-written, unrehearsed, free-associative rhymes.

Redman Presents...Reggie isn't near Mr. Noble's best work, but fans would be remised to turn their nose to the project. When he is in his element, he spits harder, and flows better than any of his peers.

What My Own Lane ultimately lacks is a true sense of creative risk from Kid Ink.

For all of its powerful lyricism, Prisoner Of Conscious is not a particularly dynamic listen.

The title-track to Meek Mill's album has all the makings of a classic opening.... And yet, what transpires on the rest of Dreams & Nightmares is an inconsistency of lyrical ingenuity and thematic execution that will haunt the Philadelphian rapper on his debut.

Black Cocaine is still raw in the right ways.

Aside from a few moments where his trademark live-wire energy shines through, Blockbusta tries too hard to capture the charts and new fans alike, relegating its headliner’s usually dominant personality to second fiddle.

From a technical standpoint, they're still rough around the edges; a weakness that can be improved over time. More importantly, their hearts seem to be in the right place, which can't be said for many of Animal Farm's peers.

Pop Star Nicki is still going strong so her fans should have nothing to worry about, but those of us who started collecting with the original line should probably just find a new hobby-Mixtape Nicki has been discontinued.

No Pressure is far too busy and easily distracted. ... When Logic just kicks back and shows off his skills, without trying to prove himself to anyone, No Pressure feels true to its title.

At 15 tracks, Heart Blanche is not much longer than 2010’s The Lady Killer and noticeably shorter than his first two albums, which both had no less than 18 tracks. However, sequencing is the heart of any album and Heart Blanche palpitates from its redundancy.

His seemingly unshakeable integrity and forthright spirit in music making shrouds Ludaversal in serious tones, marking a stark departure from the Georgia emcee’s status quo, making this one a novel and welcome addition to his catalog.

The album itself morphs from Dubstep, to R&B, to ballads, EDM, to Pop-Reggae--and that is its biggest achilles heel. It isn't something that other jumping-genre albums couldn't get over if it weren't for the the fact that it suffers from a serious sequence problem.

While similar in feel to it's predecessor, Pilot Talk, this follow-up is much less commercial in approach. The backdrop, though sometimes redundant, is more intimate, substituting any real peaks of audio genius for a solid, cohesive chilled-out-smoke-and-float ambiance.

Longtime Swollen Members fans likely won’t raise an eyebrow, but the consistent horrorcore references are likely to turn off potential new fans that aren’t down with the macabre subject matter

Libra Scale lacks the sparkle found in Ne-Yo's previous work. Much like "Champagne Life," there is still plenty to celebrate. Toast it up.

As its own EP, The Re-Up would help provide balance to the pop chart aspirations from last year. But as a tack-on for Roman Reloaded, it plays like a band-aid over a shotgun wound.

When Wale showcases his growth in being able to link his classic skillset with modern content, the album unequivocally succeeds. However, in attempting to placate current mainstream tastes, he falls short of the album being the unique and iconic success of the mixtape that truly launched his career to another level five years ago.

Lace Up is an imbalanced project that fails to establish MGK's grand message. His debut is decent at best.

The headliners don't seem like they're really trying, so even when the other acts are, they're still smothered by their leaders' apathy.

The most glaring issue with No Love Lost is the truly terrible production featured throughout.

The apprentice runs laps around the master throughout the 54-minute overstuffed marathon. Though toxic masculinity is his calling card, there’s only so many times Future can say he’s going to steal my girl without hesitation and I’ll wear it like a badge of honor before it becomes disinteresting.

It attempts to do many of the same things [as Kilt II] sonically but falls short of the mark.

While the album doesn't necessarily reinvent the wheel, those with mainstream sensibilities that like metaphor-heavy rhymes with a strong dose of social commentary will be pleasantly surprised.

Aside from its two missteps, Snoop and Wiz's Mac + Devin Go To High School is a surprisingly enjoyable listen.

Free Spirit isn’t an outright failure. For it to be a failure, Khalid would have to at least take a few risks.

More sexual than sensual, King Of Hearts fulfills the bare minimum of love, lust and heartbreak, all the while showcasing Young Goldie's affinity for the female body.

Gutter Rainbows is a fairly easy spin, and can go into the listener's steady rotation in a pinch. That being said, this feels a bit like a subdued version of Eardrum.

Mastermind simply lacks flair.

Hardcore Taylor Gang fans will be happy to add this to their collection, but if you're expecting another round of Kush x OJ, this album will probably disappoint you.

Violence Begets Violence may not draw too many new fans in, but it will serve to satisfy longtime supporters.

This album is a polished, lateral step with an accompanying barcode for Weeknd’s fans. And outsiders looking to understand his appeal are likely better off downloading the three mixtapes that preceded the album.

For the casual Weezy fan (one that hears the music but doesn't listen), I Am Not a Human Being II is perfect mindless fun. However, for those who expected more from this repeatedly delayed effort, Wayne may have to hop in his spaceship and try again.

It’s a tepid set of songs that will undoubtedly satisfy his growing fanbase and, if lucky, make a run with the right program directors. For the rest of us, and not by design, Winter & The Wolves leaves you more than a bit cold.

Ironically, though, the high points on the album are the songs that sound like old JT. This isn’t to say the new creative path he’s on won’t sprout new favorites for new fans and new generations, but for longtime fans, it’s hard to see how this will have any replay value.

Durk just has no grasp on what he wants this album to be, leading to a project made strictly to appeal to everyone, but satisfying no one.

There’s not much range here, just an excess of swag, but it’s worth a listen solely for the moments where Carti seems to accidentally stumble upon a wild flow (“Dothatshit!”), or an irresistible infection (“Half & Half”)

A frustrating project that falls short of its composer’s talent.

His rapping capabilities are clearly present and his newfound singing abilities hints at some more engaging possibilities down the road. But in order to translate those skills to his listeners, he’ll need to stray from the path already traveled, quit trying to prove himself and blaze his own trail rather than trying to please every rapper dead or alive he clearly wants to become.

Instead of creating a new wave, A$AP Rocky has drowned himself in his own ambitions and lost his identity along the way.

Drake feeds his own ego and starves his humility. There are engaging moments scattered throughout, such as the subtle outro to “9” or dvsn’s stellar turn on “Faithful,” but from the content to the execution, Views is strangled by the 6ix God’s own delusions.

Although songs like “BEBE” kindly pay tribute to 6ix9ine’s Puerto Rican roots, his rapping quickly proves to be tolerable in tiny, almost microscopic doses, while the album closer “DUMMY” is like a carbon copy of the homogenized sound currently infiltrating mainstream rap.

By Quality Control’s standards, Nuthin’ 2 Prove is a brisk listen-through as it clocks in at just over 45 minutes, but it certainly feels as bloated as recent projects from Migos and Quavo’s solo album.

When Macklemore deviates from his familiar sound, he gets mixed results.

Demons Protected By Angels alludes to an artist self-aware enough to acknowledge his flaws, but the passivity of his music suggests he’d rather stew in the toxicity than work through it.

On the surface, it’s an overwhelmingly average album, and if you were to strip away all the unnecessary intermissions and segue ways, it’d probably venture into plus territory. As it is, however, it’s a futuristic skyscraper of an album that lacks the foundation to keep from collapsing, and the more you buy into his staggering concept, the more likely you are to come away disappointed.

The ambition is commendable but in the process of Ricch trying to slow things down, he’s relegated his lambo to autopilot.

There is little here that challenges the listener — let alone Gucci himself. Your take away from it rests on how willing you are to listen to the ATL pillar cruise-control over particularly predictable soundscapes with lazy bars that make themselves malleable to mainstream playlists and simultaneously unworthy of multiple replays.

Across the album, there’s a looming question--what makes any of these canned Confessions even remotely Dangerous? If Logic wants to be above commercial Hip Hop, he will have to try a lot harder than this. Scratch that, maybe he should stop trying this hard.

While she’s making a valiant effort to mimic a lot of the mainstream rap currently infiltrating the airwaves, it’s going to be challenging for people to not immediately dismiss her as an unwelcome gimmick. That’s not to say the 15-year-old doesn’t have an arsenal of slick jabs ready to go. Much like her fiery personality, Bhad Bhabie’s song lyrics exude healthy doses of attitude toward anyone who tries to stand in her way.

Scattershot as the features may be, Drake still opts to tackle the majority of the album on his own, which have some highlights. “Away From Home” is Drake at his best, offering the only real glimpse into maturity.

Whether or not listeners make it through all 24 tracks on Funeral, it’s easy to see what Wayne is definitely in his own world. His rhyming remains unlike anyone else in the entire genre and despite this album not being his strongest, you don’t have to go far to find a Wayne quotable that inherently makes one admire his seasoned lyrical dexterity.

The best boundary-pushers use parts of their own style to traverse new musical territory. While tracks like “Sooner” are a success, UGLY doesn’t manage to complete the journey.

The LP comes up short in delivering songs that standout amongst his peers. For the most part, Love Sick isn’t going to move the needle for Toliver. Those that were fans before will like this, while others that are apprehensive about him probably won’t start liking him now.

There are so many interesting, fascinating, and captivating things Yeat does with his voice, but very rarely does that consist of compelling words coming out of his mouth. If he consistently put bars together, this would easily be one of the best albums released this year so far. That’s how good everything else about the record is.

Like most projects that get recorded without the guise of a meticulous A&R, Without Warning’s billing never exceeds the expectations of any artist--rapper or producer--let alone offer a glimpse of what allows these individuals to rank amongst 2017 Hip Hop’s most popular figures.

Although SET IT OFF is a teaser in the right direction, there isn’t enough substance to distinguish him as a solo artist, aside from the good graces he received with the Migos.

Common has been delivering solid material for three decades, but this album can be chalked up as a mediocre comeback, not for lyrical ability. Rather, it’s for the lack of soul “by the pound” in the album’s soundscapes. It just doesn’t hold as much weight in his discography.

Teezo’s debut wants to convince you that he’s this generation’s ODB, but really, he’s closer to a zanier Kid Cudi, but without the influence. His beats, while eclectic to some degree, feel like a minor subversion of the indie-rock-rap crossover that’s become increasingly popular. His lyrics remain juvenile at best with hints of maturity sporadically hidden in the deeper cuts.

Though Scary Hours 3 is longer than its predecessors, almost nothing approaches the earworm potential of “God’s Plan” or the uncut menace of “Wants and Needs.” The EP comes with the unmistakable stench of streaming bait; Scary Hours 3 is not actually its own separate project, but comes stitched onto an expanded deluxe edition of For All The Dogs.