Czarface Meets Ghostface is far from a “bad” rap album despite having a seemingly uninspired rap trio. From a bar-for-bar standpoint, the rhymes on here are better than a lot of today’s modern offerings but it’s missing the menacing attitude which is often times half the battle.

There are no deep layers to be uncovered on Queen. No methodical analysis responding to her critics for her reliance on sexual ploys. Nary a mention of any mental anguish the grave allegations her brother faces.

There are without doubt a few tracks on this album that could make it to your favorite ScHoolboy playlist but said “few” don’t outweigh the remaining dozen that fall flat on their blank face.

Although its admittedly a mixed bag, Tory’s latest successfully pays homage to ‘00s R&B while also delivering plenty of bedroom jams, club bangers, and pregame bops to keep his fans vibing.

The rawness of Kanye West’s current existence manifests in music that actually means something, which is the first time we’ve been able to say that about a Kanye album in some time.

As it stands, Born 2 Rap is a proclaimed swan song that feels more like a playlist. Let’s hope Jayceon has one more in him.

In short, WE DON’T TRUST YOU should have been shorter. The first half dozen tracks, with a few other gems scattered scarcely throughout, show just how musically connected Metro and Future truly are but fans will be able to tell when the focused material ends and the frivolous filler starts.

Aside from its individual weaknesses, as a whole, The Art of Hustle doesn’t feel very intentional; it’s a collection of songs more than a body of work.

Earworms aside, some songs are merely second-rate homages. ... 7 does show some promising directions for the meme maestro.

This album should have and could have been as epic as it seems Kanye’s dive into his faith has been. All in all, the project is a decent affair that falls short of its potential.

Huncho Jack, Jack Huncho conveys exactly what fans might expect from two of the hottest trap rappers out. Soaring, robo-rhythmic tunes? Check. Endless braggadocio? Check. A seamless blend of vocoder-tinged singing and cocky flows? Check, check, Nike Swoosh. But don’t expect a structured, meticulous project. Rather, it feels as if La Flame and the Migos leader went into the studio, indulged in the ganja, and all grooviness broke loose.

While there are moments on Boomiverse that reminds you of who you’re listening to, the lows are painful and distracting, to say the least. Weak production and terrible hooks drown out the enjoyable moments of the supposed intergalactic trip.

Much of Blonde sounds more like a minimalist soft rock record with its sparse, isolationist guitars and pianos; little to no drums; and choruses that fade into the rest of Frank’s dense, congested lyrics.

Pressure will appease fans looking for mindless tunes to cruise or smoke to but Snowman’s reluctance to push the envelope at the risk of alienating his longtime congregation is simply frustrating.

MFH2 frequently chooses to forgo these extremes that make Gates riveting, opting for something more middle-of-the-road.

While Montana by no means offers up any profound lyrical executions on MC4, he clearly has fun doing what he’s doing and is finally learning to master the role he’s developed for himself.

The beats are pleasant to excellent, the raps are practiced yet dry, and the trio that has come so far finds itself not moving at all.

If slightly unexciting, Richer Than I Ever Been is a testament to the lasting talent of the MMG commandant, even if he doesn’t break new ground.

It’s an unexpectedly, confusingly good collection of rap songs.

While B.I.B.L.E. doesn’t break any new or exciting ground and lacks any song of the summer contenders, it is solid enough to command streams and further prove his commercial viability.

This project is simply too long. The songs themselves are actually quite good in their own unique way but it’s difficult for anyone to jump around a 25-track album and get the most out of it. The Mansion would have been better off as a collection of mini condos.

The project offers disposable fun bangers and somber explorations of their pain but doesn’t elevate or illuminate Baby or Durk. It hints at lofty ambitions: an attempt at a seminal artistic statement about their influence, and dually, a victory lap after their recent success.

Instead of replicating last year’s hit mixtape, Nasty is clearly set on experimenting and expanding her sound. Even though it shows that she’s a risk taker, Anger Management is unfortunately half-baked.

Some faults of Dreezy’s album is that it sounds like a combination of the current trends in Hip Hop.

King of Memphis has all the ingredients of a breakout debut album with 12 featureless tracks but it settles in as another conventional Dolph project.

The budding star easily could have played it safe and stuck to a winning formula, which remains a strong suit (i.e. Issa’s “Bank Account” and “Close My Eyes”). Instead, he challenged himself to be more musically ambitious. While his experiments didn’t produce dynamic results, the positives overshadow the negatives.

Even at over an hour long and spanning a multitude of genres, it lacks any depth of feeling that grows tiring over 64 minutes. There’s a truly great 12-track version of INSANO hiding away somewhere.

Like his previous albums, They Got Amnesia is a simple collection of songs with slightly more consistent performance and significantly lower peaks.